


How My Heart Behaves

by itsbloomagic



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/F, femmeslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2019-01-03 19:07:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 33,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12152943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsbloomagic/pseuds/itsbloomagic
Summary: Three years after the war, Ginny finds that her feelings are changing for one of her oldest and closest friends. Will a little Christmas magic bring them together or push them apart?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first multi-chapter work I ever completed and published on ffn. I figured it would be a good start to my time here. It's titled after a song of the same name by Feist. Please keep in mind that I have not read this work in its entirety in quite some time. That said, any mistakes are my own and I have not made any major changes from the original version that I know of. Enjoy and leave a comment if you like.

Whoever said it was darker in the winter was a filthy liar.

 

I was personally offended by the brightness of the sun shining through my sheer curtains. After the night I'd had, I was not interested in a bigger headache than the one I already had. But we can't always get what we want.

 

I stretched my arms in front of me, refusing to open my eyes. As I reached blindly for the sheets to cover my head, I noticed that I was naked. It wasn't particularly surprising to me, except that it was too cold on Boxing Day to sleep in the nude. Curiously enough, though, I was rather comfortable. I tugged on the sheets, but they were likely caught on the mattress and wouldn't budge. I groaned a little out of frustration.

 

_Figures,_ I thought to myself. I put my arm over my face to block some of the light.

 

I thought back on the night before. My parents had had their usual Christmas celebration at the Burrow. It was the first time since the war that the entire family was able to get together in one place. We had all been busy cleaning up the Dark Lord's mess and trying to form the wizarding world into some semblance of normalcy for the better part of three years. When we all finally came together, it had been magical.

 

So magical, in fact, that my headache was getting worse. My arm wasn't providing much relief. With a sigh, I reached behind me, over the large, soft lump in my sheets, for my wand on the opposite nightstand. A quick wand-less  _accio_ delivered the object into my hand. I pointed it at the window and froze.

 

My eyes shot open. Instantly, I winced against the bright light pouring through my bedroom window. I rolled over gently to inspect the lump that should not have been in my bed.

 

A mass of brown hair gave way to the creamy skin of a slender neck. The sheets were pulled tightly around her shoulders, obscuring her feminine curves from my view. Overall, it was a beautiful sight to wake up to. Except that I was somewhat confused as to how Hermione Granger ended up in my bed. Probably naked.

 

I sat up quickly, racking my brain for answer. I remembered arriving at the party to some fanfare; I'd just played and won a great game of Quidditch. I remembered leaning down to hug my mother and hearing her whisper in my ear how nice it was to see me. Even though she'd seen me the week before, I smiled and nodded. It always made her happy. Hermione had already arrived, and Harry was a few moments behind me. I remembered George suggesting Firewhiskey shots. Bill and Charlie had joined in while Percy looked on disapprovingly. Even our dad had a shot, and he took it like a professional.

 

I had heard yelling sometime after that. I never caught the subject because things were starting to blur for me at that point. Then, Hermione had grabbed my hand and side-alonged us to my front step.

 

I remembered tears, lots of tears. And quite a bit of hugging. And then... Nothing. My memory was curiously dark at that point.

 

_Not helping,_ I thought.  _If I'm naked in bed with the woman I've come to love, I'd like to know how it happened._

 

I turned to the sleeping form next to me, only to find that she was awake and smiling at me. As soon as my eyes met hers, it hit me like an errant bludger.

 

_Heat. Soft kisses quickly increasing in intensity. The feel and taste of soft skin under my hands and lips. Teeth nipping at my own skin. Pleasurable pain from fingernails scratching down my back. Heavy breathing, whispered words in my ear. Pliant skin giving in under my fingers..._

 

A jolt of heat pulsed through my body and I felt my ears and face redden. I blinked and swallowed the lump in my throat. Hermione's grin widened. I licked my lips as she slowly sat up, holding the sheet to her chest in modesty. She slid forward, even with me, and slid the hand that wasn't covering herself into mine. I watched her carefully.

 

“Hi,” I rasped after a moment of silence, clearing my throat out of nerves. She rested her lips on my shoulder.

 

“Morning,” she whispered. She kissed my shoulder lightly. My slowly-receding blush flared again.

 

We didn't say anything else of several moments. My mind was racing to find something to say that wouldn't sound completely awkward, but she beat me to it.

 

“Why are you awake so early on Boxing Day?” I swallowed again.

 

“The sun was really bright,” I mumbled lamely. Hermione's lips curved against my shoulder and I felt her gently shake with laughter.

 

“Why is that funny?” She merely giggled more.

 

“I don't particularly know!” Her laughter finally bubbled over and she threw her head back slightly.

 

I smiled then, my nerves melting away. If she wasn't unhappy to be next to me, I would not complain. So I laughed with her for a few minutes. She never released my hand, and I wouldn't have asked her to. Even if it wasn't the most ideal way to end up together, I would cherish her. I decided in that moment of levity that I would not let her go again.

 

Her laughter died out and she locked her light brown eyes with mine, the smile on her face sliding into a gentle curve of the lips. I had never seen her smile that smile before, and I hoped it was only for me.

 

“I meant what I said last night, you know.” She kept her eyes on mine, even as my eyebrow cocked. “Even it didn't start out on the right foot, I'm glad it ended the way it did.”

 

I couldn't help the foolish grin that spread across my face then. I knew I looked like a child in Honeydukes, but I couldn't bring myself to care. Hermione smiled with me, her eyes sparkling brightly.

 

“Ginny, I honestly think I love you.”

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

“ _Ginny, I honestly think I love you.”_

 

My grin widened just a little. It never took much where Hermione was concerned, anyway. I distinctly remembered hearing those words last night, but I never would have believed them until now.

 

As we sat on my bed, stark naked, grinning at each other like a pair of idiots, I couldn't help but think maybe we were doing this backwards. I mean, I had feelings for Hermione, too. I had harbored them since her sixth year at Hogwarts. The timing was just never right. And yes, we'd kissed a few times. It was usually chaste and friendly, except for the one time it wasn't. But it didn't feel real.

 

My smile faltered a little as I continued the train of thought. Hermione and I had known each other for the better part of our lives, but she didn't know the sides of me I showed to my dates. I worried that she would regret her choice to drag me back to my house and let me have my way with her.

 

Not that I minded.

 

But would she decide that this was a mistake? That loving a woman was a spur-of-the-moment, _just-for-the-moment_ decision? That what we did was unnatural?

 

I couldn't imagine why those thoughts wouldn't cross her mind.

 

In my thoughts, my smile melted clean off of my face. I realized this when Hermione blinked and her entire expression morphed into one of concern. Her features changed with such fluidity that I could not tell where the smile ended and the frown began.

 

“Ginny, are you okay?” she asked, her voice slightly worried. I realized that I'd never responded to her confession while lost to the world in worry. I plastered a weak smirk on my face to cover myself, choosing jest instead of anxiety.

 

“What do you mean you _think_ you love me?” She grinned again. I heard the nervous shake in my voice, hoping that she didn’t.

 

“You know what I mean, Ginevra.”

 

We were quiet for a moment, taking each other in. I felt a tension settle between us, and I knew I had to speak up.

 

“Hermione--”

 

Without warning, she leaned forward and pressed her lips gently against mine, effectively cutting off my sentence. Her smooth, soft lips were like a balm against mine. My pulse started to race.

 

Maybe she didn't regret it.

 

After a moment, she pulled back. I licked my lips and tasted her there, watching as her eyes darkened slightly. Her hand gripped mine a little harder. Her face was somewhat surprised, as if she hadn't expected to kiss me. I was sure her gentle wonder was mirrored on my face. She leaned forward a little, her lips centimeters from mine again.

 

Her warm breath caressed my face, and I swore I heard my name whispered against my cheek. Suddenly, having no idea how it happened, I found myself being pressed into my bed by her comfortable weight. Her lips moved against mine, tongue seeking entry into my mouth, allowing me to taste her again. I moaned a little in the back of my throat at the feeling. It only spurred her on.

 

I briefly considered the consequences of my actions as my hand trailed down her side to her hip. I knew that no matter how nice it was to kiss her like I was confident she loved me, I had to face the truth sometime. I couldn't be absolutely sure. My mind went blank, though, when Hermione shifted one of her legs between mine and pressed more firmly into my body.

 

With my hand curled around the back of her neck, I pulled my leg over her hip and pushed my body up and around to roll us over. In my haste, I didn't realize how close we were to the edge of the bed. My knee missed the mattress by mere centimeters and I rolled clean over Hermione and onto the floor with a loud thump. As I stared at the ceiling from my position on the hardwood, bewildered, I heard a strange noise.

 

Giggling.

 

I sat up to find Hermione curled into a ball with a hand over her mouth. I frowned while her cheeks reddened.

 

“It's not that funny,” I grumbled, standing up and walking to my closet for some clothes. I heard more giggles behind me.

 

In the privacy of my closet, I calmed my heated body and tried to take inventory of my emotions. I was all over the place. One moment I was happy and the next I was worried. This couldn't be healthy. But I knew I had to try not to get carried away before we could have a chance to talk. I _needed_ to calm down.

 

I threw on an outfit and padded back into my bedroom to find it empty. With a glance around, I noticed that the door to my en-suite bathroom was closed. I swallowed my nerves and walked to the door.

 

“Would you like breakfast?” I called through the door.

 

“Sure!” Hermione called back. Her short answer spiked my anxiety.

 

I quickly headed downstairs to find something edible. As I pulled some eggs and ham from my refrigerator, I immediately jumped right back into my thoughts.

 

Kissing Hermione had been one of the best experiences I'd ever had. Our first kiss had been in my room at the Burrow the night before she, Harry and Ron had left to hunt horcruxes. It was nothing special, just a chaste peck on the lips when I had told her I loved her and I wanted her to be safe. Of course, she thought I meant I loved her like a sister. But even then, I knew it was more than that. This morning had been completely different. She had kissed me passionately, and I'd responded in kind. It was a safe bet to say that we had done much more than that the night before, although I didn't remember it nearly as well. If I concentrated hard enough, I could still feel Hermione's lips pressed tightly to mine.

 

I shivered involuntarily as I cracked the eggs into a bowl and tapped the burner with my wand to light it.

 

The largest problem with the situation was that I STILL had no idea how we ended up in bed together. I remembered most of the party, up until someone started yelling. As I thought harder, I recalled that one of the people yelling had actually been Hermione. I remembered turning into the kitchen with a goofy grin on my face only to see Hermione barging toward me. Then, she'd grabbed my arm and dragged me to the front yard, where we'd side-alonged to my house. It was obvious what had happened sometime after we arrived, but I just couldn't get any of that part to come to the forefront of my mind.

 

I threw the eggs and ham into a pan and onto the hot burner, nudging it absentmindedly with a spatula while I thought.  
  


I had to figure this out. Without knowing exactly what happened and what was said, I could not be sure how serious Hermione was about this. Not because I wasn't interested; I just didn't want to get hurt. More importantly, I didn't want to force her into anything that she wasn't comfortable with. I could deal with a little heartache if it meant she was happy.

 

I heard the click of my bedroom door opening just as I was setting two plates on my small dining table. I decided, as Hermione's quiet footsteps trailed down the stairs, that we would need to seriously discuss what happened last night. She would have to be aware that I didn't remember it. And I would have to deal with the effects of my acting so familiar with her this morning. For all I knew, she could be thinking it was a one-time deal. It wouldn't be for me, and I would have to make that clear as well. I knew I could be setting myself up for a load of pain, but I genuinely wanted this to turn out for the best. I knew I had to take the risk and handle it maturely. It was a better plan than trying to base a relationship off of assumption.

 

I was sliding the egg and ham mixture onto the two plates when Hermione walked into my kitchen. I glanced up at her and smiled, knowing that it didn't quite reach my eyes. She saw it, too; I was sure because her eyes tried to catch mine.

 

“Can I help you with anything, Gin?” she asked quietly. I turned away quickly and summoned some silverware to the table.

 

“I've just about got it covered,” I replied, setting two goblets next to the plates on the table and filling them with orange juice. When I turned back to the table after putting the juice away, Hermione was seated in front of her plate. She was concentrating rather hard on the eggs.

 

I knew for a fact they weren't that interesting.

 

I sat in the chair across from her, picking up my fork and tucking in. Hermione followed suit.

 

“This is really good, Ginny,” she said after a few bites. I smirked.

 

“I didn't live with MY mother and not learn anything.” She chuckled at that.

 

We ate in silence for a few minutes, glancing up at each other when we thought the other wasn't looking. As soon as our plates were empty, I waved them to the sink with my wand and sipped my juice. The time had come.

 

“Hermione, I think we need to--”

 

“Ginny, I've been meaning to--”

 

We spoke at once, drowning each other out. I felt my ears redden and I cleared my throat.

 

“You go first,” I muttered. She nodded carefully.

 

“I know what happened is out of character for me. It may not fall into your chosen plan for your life, but we can't exactly take it back,” she stated. I swallowed, preparing to speak. “I don't know that what happened was a bad thing, though it may be that we rushed it a bit.”

 

“That's just it,” I said softly. I paused and looked her directly in the eyes. “What exactly _did_ happen last night?”

 

She just stared at me for a long moment, her eyes flicking back and forth between mine. I felt my ears redden yet again at her scrutiny. She cleared her throat.

 

“What do you mean, 'what happened last night'?” Her tone was careful, like she knew what I was going to say. I took a deep breath.

 

“I mean that I don't remember. Mind you, I remember certain parts, like my parents' party and you dragging me outside to Apparate. But beyond that, I'm just... Blank.”

 

Her eyes widened and her skin paled, making her freckles stand out even more. I caught myself staring and focused back on her expression. It was now confused.

 

“But... Gin, this morning?”

 

I opened my mouth to answer with the most honest explanation I could. But just as I took the breath, a very loud banging sounded from my front door. We both started at the sound, Hermione's hand shooting to her heart and mine to my wand. I stood and made my way through my living room to the front hall and the door. Just as I rounded the corner into the hall, the banging sounded again. I heard a gasp and realized that Hermione was right behind me.

 

“Who on Earth--” she began.

 

“GIN!” A loud, familiar voice yelled from my front step. I glanced back to Hermione and watched her pale a little more.

 

“GIN, I KNOW HERMIONE'S THERE!”

 

Hermione looked pained. I turned and wrapped my fingers around her shoulders, pushing her firmly against the wall because she looked as if she could faint at any moment.

 

“C'mon, 'Mione,” the voice said, still loud but no longer yelling. I looked back to the door to see the shadow of my closest brother's unruly ginger hair through the small panes of glass near the top of the door. “I just want to clear things up, you know? Start fresh.”

 

“Ron...” Hermione mumbled.

 

And then she slumped none-too-gently to the floor of the hallway.

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

“ _Ron...” Hermione mumbled._

 

_And then she slumped none-too-gently to the floor of the hallway._

 

I managed to catch Hermione under her arms just before she hit the floor. I hoisted her up and wrapped my arms tightly around her torso to pull her into the living room.  
  
"Come in, Ron!" I called to the hallway. The lock clicked open with my invitation and Ron pushed into the house quickly. He dropped his jacket and rucksack in my entryway and rushed forward to take Hermione from my arms. I didn't hear him close the door.  
  
I frowned as he struggled to pull her to the couch. He wasn't paying attention and managed to knock her knee into my coffee table. I winced internally, knowing it would likely bruise before the day ended. He set her down in a lopsided sitting position and stepped back to wipe the sweat from his brow.  
  
"Ron, you have to lay her flat so she doesn't get a cramp in her neck," I huffed, stepping forward and leaning Hermione's unconscious form into a laying position against the cushions. I knelt beside her on the floor and gently brushed the hair from her forehead, scanning her pale face for any sign that she could be sick. Finding none, I turned back to my brother. He was looking at me quizzically.  
  
"What are you doing here, Ron?" I asked him.  
  
"I thought I made that pretty obvious." He ran a hand through his hair. "Weren't you listening when I was banging on your door?"  
  
I rolled my eyes and stood, waving my wand at the front door to close it. Ron followed me as I strode into the kitchen to get a cloth for Hermione's head. He leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed, watching me silently.  
  
"Good morning to you, too, Gin," he muttered as I pulled a washcloth from a drawer and held it under the faucet. After it was soaked, I shut off the water and wrung it out. I spun around and glared at my gangly brother.  
  
"Really, Ron, it's Boxing Day. Shouldn't you be out drinking with Harry or something?" He scoffed.  
  
"At ten in the morning?" He dared to sound incredulous. I just raised an eyebrow at him, which shut him up.  
  
"Why did Hermione faint?" he asked, changing the subject.  
  
"You tell me," I muttered, striding back out to the couch. "One minute, we're enjoying a nice breakfast and the next you're trying to take down my door."  
  
"Don't be thick, Ginny. You heard the yelling last night." I placed the cool washcloth on Hermione's forehead and put my hand over it. She didn't stir. "I just figured I'd come back and apologize and all that. Make her come back home to me, you know."  
  
I shook my head and turned to him.  
  
"Make her come back home to you?" I asked, squinting my eyes. “Ron, what kind of girl do you think Hermione is? If you pissed her off enough, you have to give her space.”

So, it seemed that the yelling last night had been between Ron and Hermione. I stored that bit of information for later.  
  
Ron opened his mouth to reply, but I didn't get a chance to, as Hermione stirred. I whipped my head around just as she was opening her deep brown eyes.  
  
"Hermione," I whispered to her. "How are you feeling?"  
  
"What happened?" she asked rubbing her eyes and sitting up a little.  
  
"You fainted, 'Mione." My neck cracked as I whipped my head back around. I heard Hermione gasp beside me.  
  
The silence was deafening and the tension was no better. I glanced back and forth between them, wishing for the thousandth time that Firewhiskey didn't conveniently erase my memories.  
  
"What are you doing here?" Hermione broke the silence first, slowly pushing herself farther up into a sitting position. I slid an arm around her shoulder and sat down next to her. I glanced at Ron, whose ears were now quickly reddening.  
  
"I, er... I came to apologize," he sputtered, obviously nervous. Hermione's face remained blank.  
  
"For what?"  
  
Ron opened his mouth as if to say something and then changed his mind and closed it. After an awkward silence, he turned to me.   
  
"Gin, do you mind if I talk to Hermione? Alone?" I balked.  
  
"This is MY house, Ron! Anything you can say to Hermione you can say to me, too." I folded my arms across my chest. Hermione took a deep breath.  
  
"Ginny, just give us a few minutes?" I glanced at Hermione when I heard her pleading tone. Ron sighed loudly and a flash of annoyance passed through her eyes. I raised an eyebrow. "We can finish our conversation in a little while."  
  
I swallowed a reply and nodded, lowering my arms. With a warning glance at Ron, I stood and headed up the stairs to my bedroom. I decided to take a quick shower to pass the time and give them a little privacy.  
  
As I stepped under the warm spray, my mind raced. Although I still couldn't remember the details, I was starting to gather information little by little.  
  
Apparently, Ron and Hermione had had a fight at my parents' Christmas party. That explained the yelling from last night. It also explained why Hermione charged at me and dragged us both back here. She had a history of storming off whenever Ron made her angry. And Ron usually made her angry when he had a few Firewhiskey shots.  
  
All of this brought on her tears, as usual. She had to have been distraught over whatever Ron said to her. Which made him feel like an idiot, leading him to talk to one of our brothers or Harry about the situation. They had convinced him to show up at my house and try to win Hermione back.  
  
I dropped the bar of soap I had been scrubbing my arms with when it all came together.  
  
Hermione was so distraught over Ron that it had clouded her normally steely judgment. That was how she had ended up in my bed this morning, naked.  
  
My eyes stung with tears and my throat tightened as I panicked.  
  
But why would she tell me she loved me if she didn't mean it?   
  
Maybe she meant a platonic, friendly love.  
  
Why did she kiss me so passionately?  
  
She was probably making sure she didn't have real feelings for me.  
  
I shut off the water and toweled off in frustration. Every time I thought up a new reason to believe her, I also thought up a new reason to distrust her. It was a vicious cycle and I couldn't pull myself out of it.  
  
I dragged myself to my closet for the second time, shoving underwear, a shirt and a pair of jeans into my body. I had no idea if I looked presentable or not, and I couldn't bring myself to care. I quickly slipped on a pair of shoes and checked my face in the mirror. My eyes were still a little puffy, but it wasn't enough to make me pause.

I took a few deep breaths and steeled myself. Hermione always had a reason for everything she ever did. That meant that there was a purpose for every word she spoke to me and every action she made this morning. I would give her the benefit of the doubt. We would talk it out like I had originally planned. I would find a way to get rid of my brother so we could get this worked out.

  
It was very quiet when I stepped onto the landing. I could hear the deep vibration of my brother's voice and it made me want to cry again. I took another deep breath and descended the stairs.

This time I would tell her how I felt, regardless of the mystery surrounding our night in my bed.  
  
I rounded the corner into the living room and stopped short with a gasp. The scene before me made my eyes burn once more, my vision quickly blurring. My chest started to hurt and I clenched my jaw.   
  
Hermione was pressed firmly into the couch by Ron's lanky body. He had his arms clamped tightly around her waist. He was kissing her, though it looked more like he was trying to devour her face.  
  
The worst part was that Hermione didn't appear to be doing anything to stop him.  
  
The more I watched, the more my heart shattered. The small hopes that I had managed to hold onto disappeared like a wisp of smoke.  
  
Before I could turn and run, I let out a loud sob. I clamped my hand over my mouth, feeling my tears on my cheeks. Ron and Hermione jumped apart like lighting, her lips swollen and his ears reddening. I felt a surge of anger at the realization that her soft lips weren't really mine to enjoy.  
  
With both of them staring at me, I spun on my heel and bolted to my front door, shoving a jacket onto my torso as I ran.  
  
The last thing I heard before I slammed my front door was a heartbreaking sound.  
  
It was Hermione's voice crying out my name in a strangled sob.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops... Sometimes this work changes POV. In this chapter, we hear from Hermione. I'll make sure to let you know in the notes when that changes. Thank you for reading.

 

“Gin, do you mind if I talk to Hermione? Alone?” Ron asked. I watched Ginny's facial expression change rapidly from mild curiosity to outrage. I decided to cut her off before she tore Ron a new eye socket or something similarly gruesome.

 

“This is MY house, Ron! Anything you can say to Hermione you can say to me, too.” I quickly took a deep breath as Ginny crossed her arms.

 

“Ginny, just give us a few minutes?” I said, making it sound more like a question. She glanced at me and I knew she wanted to erupt on Ron. He sighed impatiently from the middle of the room and I blinked back my annoyance. Ginny raised an eyebrow.

 

“We can finish our conversation in a little while.”

 

I could tell that she wanted to reply to me, but she thought better of it and left the room. Her bedroom door snapped closed and the water in her bathroom turned on a moment later.

 

“Have a seat,” I said, motioning to the recliner across from the couch. As he took his seat, I shifted on the couch and moved to cross my legs. However, when I placed my left leg on top of my right, a throbbing pain shot through my right knee. I frowned, wondering what I hit my knee on when I fainted.

 

“What's wrong?” Ron asked quickly. A little too eagerly, in my opinion.

 

“My knee is sore,” I replied. His ears reddened curiously and I cleared my throat. “So what do you want, Ron? Was I not clear enough for you last night?” He blanched.

 

“Look, 'Mione... I just...” Ron sighed loudly, running a hand through his bright locks. It always took him a long time to collect his thoughts and this time was no different. He sighed again before continuing. “I came over here today to apologize for my, uh, behavior last night. I didn't mean what I said and I hope you can forgive me so we can be happy again.”

 

He stuck a hand in his pocket and shifted uncomfortably. I sat in silence waiting for him to give me a sign that he was finished. I wanted to reserve judgment until I had all the facts. He pushed on, staring hard at the carpet.

 

“I miss having you around, 'Mione. It's not the same without you in the flat. When I sit by the fire at night and you're not there reading or writing, I just get so lonely. I know we haven't been right for a long time... I really wanna fix it.” He seemed to decide something at that moment and he nodded to himself. With a deep breath, he looked up and stood from the chair.

 

“I know I'm going about this wrong, and you'll probably say no, but I just have to ask...” He trailed off and stood directly in front of me. Without warning, he dropped to one knee and produced a small ring box from his pocket. He opened it to reveal a thin silver ring with a modest white stone. “If you'll have me, I'd like to marry you.”

 

 

“Um... What?” I asked, dumbfounded. Perhaps my brain was still fuzzy from the minutes I spent unconscious. I just stared at him blankly. It was not like me to be speechless, though Ron Weasley seemed to be great at making it happen.

 

“Erm... Marry me? And come back home?”

 

I felt like a fish out of water. My mouth was opening and closing on its own and I could not figure out how to stop it. Instantly, I remembered what had happened last night as if it were happening again right before my eyes...

 

_...I heard the raucous cheers of the Weasley family as Ginny, the only daughter, strode through the front door._

 

“ _Way to go, Gin!”_

 

“ _Only the best Chaser on the Harpies!”_

 

“ _Were you even playing an opponent?!”_

 

_I grinned. Tonight would be the night that I confessed to Ginny my biggest secret. It had been a very long time coming and I was so excited to get it out in the open. If I wasn't mistaken, we would both benefit from it._

 

_I started out to the den where most of the family was gathered. Just as I spotted Ginny in the sea of ginger heads, a loud whooshing noise came from the fireplace. We all turned our attention to see Harry stumble out of the green flames. He never did adapt well to travel by floo._

 

_Everyone was all smiles, hugging each other and genuinely enjoying their time together. I caught up with Harry and Ginny and I couldn't keep my eyes off of her. Her fiery hair shined in the glowing firelight. Her dark, mocha-colored eyes sparkled as she modestly described her amazing performance at the annual Christmas Day Quidditch match. Too soon, however, her brother George pulled her away from Harry and I to take shots of Firewhiskey with Ron, Bill, Charlie and Arthur. We looked on as most of the Weasley family knocked back two or three glasses each of the burning liquid, enjoying their antics. In a quiet moment, Harry managed to tear my attention away from Ginny for a few moments._

 

“ _You really shouldn't be so obvious if you're not planning on doing anything about it,” he said quietly. I barely turned my head in recognition._

 

“ _Obvious about what?”_

 

“ _Ginny.” I tore my eyes away from the object of my affection and trained them on Harry. He was smiling gently at me._

 

“ _I know the look on your face, Hermione. You have it bad for her.”_

 

_I couldn't even begin to argue with him; I just copied his grin sheepishly._

 

“ _I'm going to tell her tonight,” I mentioned eagerly. Harry's smile grew._

 

“ _I'm glad. I know you two will be very happy. But what about Ron?” My grin shifted into a grimace._

 

“ _I already told Ron that I'm tired of trying to be something I can't be for him. I just hope he understands...” I trailed off, sipping my butterbeer solemnly. Harry cleared his throat._

 

“ _Speaking of... Have a good evening, Hermione.” I glanced at Harry to see him disappearing between Bill and Charlie. I furrowed my brows in confusion and turned back to the group milled around Ginny. However, instead of finding her in the crowd, I found myself staring directly into the eyes of Ron Weasley. I sighed internally when he opened his mouth._

 

“ _Hermione, can I talk to you for a sec?” he asked, slurring his words very slightly. I wanted to refuse him. I wanted to tell him to go away and leave me to my thoughts. But I was also curious as to what he could have to say, considering we had not been a couple since the beginning of November. So, I allowed him to take my hand and lead me into the kitchen._

 

_I glanced back to the group of Weasleys around the Firewhiskey bottle and spotted Ginny. She had an odd look on her face. When she saw me looking, she turned her attention to the bottle and quickly uncorked it for another shot._

 

_When Ron and I entered the kitchen, I stood near the doorway in case I had to make a quick escape. I hoped he wouldn't take too long because I really needed to speak with Ginny before she got completely buggered. I looked at Ron impatiently, wondering why he hadn't started speaking yet._

 

“ _What do you need, Ron? I'd like to get back out to the party.” I decided I would begin, since he seemed to be content with staring._

 

“ _I, er... I really like you, Hermione,” he said. I frowned._

 

“ _We established this three years ago.”_

 

“ _I mean I REALLY like you. I want you to come home with me tonight.” I quirked an eyebrow at him._

 

“ _What on Earth makes you think I would do that? We've been separated for almost two months, Ron. My feelings should be pretty clear at this point.” I glanced back out the doorway and spotted Ginny laughing with Harry and Bill. I smiled a little._

 

“ _Hey, what's so interesting out there?” Ron asked in a hard voice. I turned back to him._

 

“ _Nothing. Are we finished?”_

 

“ _No we're bloody well not finished!” Ron said, his voice raised a little. It always happened that whenever his voice raised, so did mine._

 

“ _What now?!” I nearly shouted._

 

“ _WHY CAN'T YOU JUST BE HAPPY BEING A HOUSEWIFE?” he yelled, glaring at me. I heard a slight hush come over the talking outside the kitchen. “I KNOW that's why you refused to stay with me. You didn't want to keep my house!”_

 

_I was taken aback. He cut me off when I opened my mouth to speak._

 

“ _No, I'm not done! You always go on about how YOUR career is about to begin and how YOUR studies are going or whatever book YOU just read. Well what about MY laundry? What happens when we have kids? Will I have to take care of them while you gallivant about WORKING? It's MY job to work and YOURS to keep my home in line!”_

 

_I found myself completely incapable of speech. The noise level outside of the kitchen was back to normal, though I knew a few people were still listening. Ron was merely staring at me, breathing heavily._

 

“ _Hermione, I love you! But you can't keep going on about your career when you have a perfectly good job at home.”_

 

_That was the single crack that shattered my speechless stupor. It felt like a quick burst of flame was unleashed throughout my entire body. Before I knew it, I was standing chest-to-chest with Ron, glaring up into his eyes._

 

“ _RONALD WEASLEY!” I yelled, effectively ending all the conversations outside the kitchen. “How DARE you tell me what I CAN and CANNOT do.” He looked a little bit afraid. I took a deep breath and screamed my next statement. “JUST BECAUSE I AM A WOMAN DOES NOT MEAN I DO NOT HAVE THE RIGHT TO WORK JUST AS HARD TO MAKE SOMETHING OF MYSELF OUTSIDE OF THE HOUSE.”_

 

“ _WELL MAYBE IF YOU KNEW HOW TO BE A HOMEMAKER--”_

 

“ _DON'T YOU DARE EVEN FINISH THAT SENTENCE, RONALD!” I was the one breathing heavily now. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply for a moment. When I opened my eyes, I pointed a single finger directly into Ron's sternum, causing him to take a step back._

 

“ _You assume that even though we're not together I will be bearing your children.” I poked him again; he took another step back. “You figure that I will just stop MY life in its tracks to provide you with a spotless home and three meals every day.” Poke. He was backed up against the kitchen counter now. “Did you forget that I cleaned your house while you went through Auror training? Did you FORGET that I made your meals? DID YOU?”_

 

_We stared each other down for several long seconds. The silence in the Burrow was absolutely astounding. Had it been any other situation, I would have marveled in it._

 

_Ron pushed my hand away from his chest and leaned down until his nose was almost touching mine. I could smell the liquor on his breath._

 

“ _Hermione, who will love you if I don't?” he muttered._

 

_My eyes started to burn and I knew I had to get out before he could hurt me even more. I spun on my heel and stormed from the kitchen. Ginny happened to be approaching the door as I was leaving it, so I took hold of her arm and dragged her out with me._

 

“ _Where are we going?” she slurred as we clomped down the steps._

 

“ _Your house,” I replied, picturing Ginny's front door and turning on the spot..._

 

Ron looked like he was going to cry. He was still kneeling in front of me as I relived our earth-shattering row from the Christmas party last night. I shook my head gently to clear it and looked directly into his flat blue eyes.

 

“Ronald, I have one question for you.” He nodded. “Which one of your brothers convinced you that a halfhearted apology combined with a marriage proposal would be enough for me to forgive you for all the horrible things that you said to me last night?”

 

Ron had the decency to look sheepish. However, my simple question didn't deter him.

 

“I didn't talk to my brothers about any of what happened.”

 

“Why? Were you too embarrassed by your boorish behavior?”

 

“You KNOW how I get when I drink--”

 

“Don't try that excuse with me because it's worn thin by now,” I growled, cutting him off. “You are a selfish, ignorant, POMPOUS man if you think that your little stunt last night has left me with any respect for you.”

 

He was quiet for a long moment, fiddling with the ring box. He finally closed it and put it back in his pocket with a sigh.

 

“Is there someone else?” he asked quietly. The question surprised me, for it was not what I anticipated him to say.

 

“What?”

 

“Have you already found someone else with a throat to shove your career down? Is that why you won't marry me?” he snarled.

 

“Merlin, just listen to yourself, Ron! The reason I will not marry you should be pretty clear by now.”

 

“But there's someone else. You don't do ANYTHING without a reason, Hermione.” I cocked my head to the side a little and narrowed my eyes, confused.

 

“What's that supposed to mean?” I asked.

 

“You wouldn't turn your back on me if there wasn't someone else.”

 

“I would if you were an arrogant prat, which you are.” He scoffed. If any of his behavior to this point was an indication, there was no way I could tell him about Ginny or anyone else.

 

“You know, I always thought that you liked Harry better. Is that who you left me for? You two seemed pretty close last night.” He was on his feet again.

 

“Of course not, Ron. Harry and I were just talking.” His eyes flashed dangerously and I was a little bit scared.

 

“Yeah? Well here's something to think of next time you're 'just talking' with Harry.”

 

With that, Ron leaned down and grasped my hips forcefully, pushing me farther into the cushions of the couch. My hands shot quickly to his shoulders to push him away, but his mouth descended on mine in a flash. He attacked my mouth, sliding his arms around my hips and squeezing tightly. I tried in vain to push him off; he wouldn't budge. His familiar weight was suffocating.

 

I was going to bite his tongue the next time he forced it past my lips until I heard an unmistakable sound. It was a loud sob in a very familiar timbre. Ron tore his face from mine and jumped back a few feet while I just stared at the heartbroken woman standing in the entryway. Her hand was clamped tightly over her mouth and her tears were pouring down her face, causing my own eyes to sting.

 

I made to stand, but she'd already turned to flee. I sprinted to the hallway in time to see her shove the second sleeve of her jacket onto her arm and rip the front door open. My throat tightened and I couldn't breathe.

 

“Ginny!” I sobbed, my voice breaking.

 

She was already gone.

 

I felt Ron approach me from behind. He placed his hands on my hips as if to comfort me. I jumped out of his arms and quickly drew my wand to point it at him.

 

“Don't you dare touch me,” I hissed at him. He raised his hands in surrender. “You can take your things and get out of this house.”

 

“It's really not Harry, is it?” Ron asked, his eyes flicking to the tightly shut door. And I finally focused on his eyes to see the recognition blooming. I realized then that my own face was soaked with tears. I was sure I looked like someone had just ripped my heart out and stomped on it.

 

That someone was me.

 

“Ginny...” I muttered, leaning against the wall and sliding down it to the floor. Ron gathered his rucksack and coat quietly.

 

What had Ginny done to deserve this? She didn't even remember the things I'd confessed to her last night or the beautiful things we'd done afterward. Not even the way she'd comforted me and told me she would always love me, regardless of the lies her brother tried to feed me. The only things she had to hold onto were the quiet words I said to her this morning and the kiss I poured my love into. There was no way she would believe me when I told her the truth now.

 

Ron took another quick glance at me and dejectedly trudged out of Ginny's front door. I didn't even look at him.

 

How could I have allowed this to happen? I should have controlled my emotions last night and slept on the couch until Ginny was in the right state to hear the things I had to say. I should have made sure things were settled before I slept with her. I should have told Ron to leave as soon as he showed up this morning.

 

I should have done a lot of things. But now there was only one thing to be done.

 

I had to make Ginny believe that I was telling the truth. That I wanted her and only her. That I was completely in love with her from the birthmark on her shoulder to the way she said the word “butterscotch”.

 

It had to be done. Neither of us could be happy until then.

 


	5. Chapter 5

I managed to find my way back onto the couch in Ginny's living room, which is where I sat until very long after dark.

 

Ginny didn't come home.

 

Around midnight, I dragged myself up the stairs to Ginny's bedroom, seeing the disarray that the bedsheets were still in. I figured I might as well sleep there in case she came back later. So, I set the alarm on the nightstand and crawled under the sheets, fully clothed. I didn't fall asleep quickly, too busy worrying where Ginny had gone and if she would come back before I had to leave for work.

 

She didn't.

 

I fell asleep for only an hour before Ginny's alarm blared. Jumping from the bed, I searched her guest room, living room, kitchen and all bathrooms, not finding her anywhere.

 

I knew deep down that I had been lying to myself; I didn't expect her to come home.

 

With a defeated sigh and tears in my eyes, I made her bed and put away the dishes from the breakfast we enjoyed the previous morning. After tidying up the living room, I slipped on my jacket and left, making sure all her locking charms and protective enchantments were in place. I Apparated to my flat and changed into my robes, not bothering to shower or eat. With a pat to Crookshanks' head, I Flooed into the Ministry of Magic.

 

Since the war, I had been working closely with the new minister, Kingsley Shacklebolt, on relations with magical creatures of all kinds. Some of the first to negotiate with us were the goblins. After the damage caused to Gringotts and Harry's involvement with Gryffindor's sword, they were the most willing to work for their rights. Soon after, the centaurs joined with the Ministry. By now, many of the sentient creatures had negotiations in the works with people in my division. It was a great job and I enjoyed it very much.

 

However, today, I couldn't seem to find any motivation.

 

I had to rewrite a report on the language of the merpeople about four times before I finally gave up and moved on to something else. When Minister Shacklebolt came to check on me at midday, I was sitting with my head in my hands, having given up on yet another project.

 

“Miss Granger, are you alright?” he asked in a professional tone. My head shot up and I pulled my charts back to me as if I'd been working on them the whole time.

 

“Yes, yes, I'm fine,” I breathed in a slightly manic tone. He wasn't fooled.

 

“You don't appear fine, Hermione.” My shoulders slumped and I dropped my head back into my hand.

 

“I'm just a little stressed. There was some interesting... Conversation at the Weasleys' Christmas party,” I admitted, trying to be as vague as possible.

 

“Why don't you call it a day and relax. Come back on Monday, when I'm sure everything will have been resolved.” I glanced up to see Kingsley giving me a gentle smile, his dark eyes twinkling slightly. I nodded.

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

He turned and left my office, leaving the door open. Without another thought, I packed away my files and reports and exited, making sure to lock up on my way out. I then Flooed back to my flat for a much-needed nap.

 

By the time Monday rolled around, my concentration had barely improved.

 

I had tried writing to Ginny and so far had sent two letters via owl. After I hadn't received a reply on the first one, I'd sent it again, thinking perhaps it didn't reach her.

 

_Ginny,_

 

_I'm so sorry about this misunderstanding. I know that you are hurt right now and I know you probably do not want to talk to me, but I implore you to see reason. I need to speak with you face-to-face so that we can work this out. I promise you, it is not what you think._

 

_Please write back to me soon, before I go absolutely crazy._

 

_With love,_

_Hermione_

 

I had yet to receive a reply.

 

After work Monday, I popped into Harry's flat to see if he had heard from Ginny. He told me that when he came home from the Burrow on Boxing Day, he found Ginny a bawling mess in his guest bed. He had let her stay the night and comforted her. When she had left, he said, she had been almost normal. However, when he had visited her on Sunday, she was distant and brooding. He had also seen the two letters I had sent sitting unopened on her coffee table.

 

My heart ached that I was the cause of her pain.

 

Harry then shared with me her side of the story. How she didn't remember anything after we had Apparated to her house on Christmas night. How she was confused about my behavior and had planned to talk it over with me.

 

I was disgusted with myself. I begged Harry not to tell her anything about my side of the story, wanting to do it myself. I asked him to keep in touch and left, feeling much more down than I had when I arrived.

 

When I got to work on Tuesday, it was to find that there was no office work to be done. So, instead of trying in vain to do my paperwork, I helped file in the International Magical Office of Law on the next floor to pass the time. It was mindless work, and it allowed me to consider ways to get Ginny to talk to me. I knew I had to try to get to her before her Quidditch practice in the next week. So, when I arrived home on Tuesday evening, I wrote another letter and sent it off with my owl.

 

By Saturday, when I still hadn't heard anything from Ginny, I wrote to Harry. He replied that he had visited her twice since the first time. Apparently, she had not improved and my letters remained unopened. I was beginning to worry myself sick. I could feel my throat becoming sore and my body more fatigued.

 

The following Monday before I went to work, I received an owl from Ron. I broke the official-looking wax seal on the parchment and scanned through his untidy writing. It was another “heartfelt” apology from the bottom of his very soul. I scoffed and tossed the parchment into the fire, watching it shrivel and burn before I left.

 

On Tuesday, after writing and sending my sixth and most pleading letter to Ginny with still no response to the previous five, I Flooed to Harry's flat.

 

“Harry!” I called. There was no response.

 

I headed to his kitchen and began to prepare a quick dinner for him and I. Soon after I started, he Apparated into the kitchen in a formal set of robes.

 

“Whoa!” he exclaimed, surprised by my presence. I smiled tightly at him.

 

“Sorry...” I muttered. He shook his head.

 

“It's er... It's okay.” He blinked a few times, leaving the room. He came back a few minutes later in more comfortable clothing.

 

“What brings you over, Hermione?” he asked, taking a seat at his dining table and watching me intently.

 

“I have sent five letters to Ginny so far. I haven't received a single reply, and honestly, I think I might be coming down with a cold from all of this worrying.” Harry nodded thoughtfully, his mouth pressed into a grim line.

 

“I don't understand what's up with her,” he stated, standing up and gathering dishes and silverware for the table. “Whenever she was here on Boxing Day, she told me that she wanted to handle this like an adult with you and not make any assumptions. But it seems like that is all she's doing.”

 

I sighed loudly, plating our food and sitting with him at the table.

 

“I'm so lost, Harry. She won't return my owls, and I know if I try to go over there she won't let me in. I don't understand what I can do...”

 

“I have an idea,” Harry said, after swallowing a forkful of food. “When I left her on Saturday morning, I told her that if she didn't leave her house and go to practice, I would come over and make her do so. Perhaps, since I'm pretty sure she won't leave on her own, I'll convince her to come to dinner here tomorrow night. You will be here also, and she'll be forced to listen to reason.”

 

I mulled over Harry's idea as I ate. The one major issue with it was that Ginny probably knew that he was serious about making her go to practice. That meant that she had probably closed off her Floo grate and put a charm on her door to keep Harry away.

 

“How will you get in?” I asked Harry, knowing he was probably thinking along the same lines.

 

“I know that when we broke up, I never took the charm from my door that allowed her entry with a special incantation.”

 

“The same kind you have for Ron and I? When we use the door, that is,” I added with a smirk. Harry's lips twitched in a small smile.

 

“Exactly. I know that I trust her enough to keep her enchantment on, so she probably trusts me enough to have left me free to Apparate in and out without restriction.”

 

I nodded thoughtfully.

 

“It's definitely worth a shot,” I said, sipping my butterbeer. “Chances are, she probably forgot about the Apparation part since we normally Floo in and out anyway. All you will have to do is convince her.”

 

“That might not be so hard,” he muttered, clearing our empty plates from the table with a wave of his wand. “She may be about ready to crack by now. If I know Ginny, she's probably about tired of being in the same chair for two weeks straight.”

 

I hummed in response. Harry and I stood and sat in his living room in silence. He broke it after several minutes.

 

“So, do you know what you'll say to her yet? Or have you not even begun to think of it?” he asked. I sighed heavily.

 

“I know what I need to say... But for once in my life, I'm not quite sure the best way to say it.”

 

“The most important thing, in my opinion, is to make sure she knows how you feel.”

 

I glanced at Harry speculatively.

 

“In the state she's in, she probably thinks that you only meant what you said that morning in a platonic way. She's also probably in the mindset that your kiss was a way to convince yourself that you didn't have actual feelings for her. Her mind is very volatile right about now, I'm sure.”

 

It made sense. She was the type that would think things over too much if given the space and time. And she'd basically cut herself off from everyone enough to be able to do so.

 

If I wanted to finally get my feelings for Ginny out in the open and hope that she could forgive my poor judgment, I definitely had my work cut out for me.

 

“Well, then,” I began, standing and placing my hands on my hips, “I suppose I have a great deal of planning to do.”

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to Ginny's POV with this chapter.

It had been two weeks since I'd had my heart violently torn from my chest.

 

Perhaps that wasn't a very apt description.

 

It had been two weeks since I'd seen the woman I was head-over-heels in love with kissing her ex-fiance, who also happened to be my brother. Two weeks since I'd felt a glimmer of hope in my dreary heart. Two weeks since I woke up with any kind of happiness.

 

Two weeks since I had seen either Hermione or Ron.

 

On Boxing Day, I'd run from my house and Apparated directly to Harry's flat in London. He wasn't home yet; I'd assumed that he had stayed over at the Burrow. So, I had let myself in with the incantation he assigned just for me. Without even pausing, I ran straight to his guest bedroom and curled up into a ball on the small bed, bawling my eyes out into the comforter.

 

Harry had come home a few hours later, around two o'clock in the afternoon. He was surprised to see me there, but he admitted that he had rather expected Ron since my brother had let slip that he wanted to talk to Hermione that morning. Regardless, he'd crawled onto the bed with me and wrapped his arms around my torso tightly, listening as I spilled every single detail that I could remember and those I'd managed to figure out.

 

That was one of the things I loved about Harry. No matter how many things he and I had been through, he was always there when I needed him.

 

Once I'd dried my tears and calmed down, Harry had got up and made us a light dinner. As we ate, I admitted to him that I was afraid to go home. I told him that I knew Hermione would try to wait for me as long as she could. Harry understood and offered me his guest bed for the night, knowing that Hermione would have to leave very early the next morning in order to make it to her job on time. After I helped him clean up from dinner, I returned to the room and promptly collapsed into a dreamless sleep.

 

The next morning, I'd left Harry's and reluctantly returned to my house. It was mercifully empty and locked up tight. My heart hurt knowing that Hermione cared about me enough to lock up my house, but not enough to not snog my brother in my house after the night we'd shared. The hurt quickly flared into anger, which prompted me to put a charm on my front door to keep Hermione away.

 

Now, two weeks later, I was sitting in the recliner in my living room, staring at a small pile of parchment rolls on the coffee table. It was six in the morning and I had to be at the first Holyhead Harpies Quidditch practice of the new year in only four hours. Considering the fact that I had barely left the recliner in the last fourteen days, except to eat, I wasn't sure that I would be motivated enough to go.

 

I had cried a few more times during my self-imposed quarantine. But now my tears were all used up and my eyes hurt from lack of sleep. I had managed to sleep, but never very well or for very long.

 

Harry had tried to talk to me while I was locked away. He had come over three times and tried to get me out of the house. I am ashamed to say that I pushed him away and asked him to leave every time. My own behavior saddened me, as I knew that I had hurt one of my closest friends. Though, compared to my own emotional pain, I wasn't very concerned for him.

 

That fact saddened me even more.

 

Regardless, I had charmed my door to turn him away as well.

 

I blinked, welcoming the blackness of my eyelids for a split second. When I opened my eyes, they returned to the coffee table and the stack of parchment lying on it. Every single roll was still sealed tight. I hadn't even bothered to open them after the familiar dark brown owl had delivered them; I had been too distraught.

 

I knew who they were from, of course. There were five of them. They had started arriving the day after I came back to my house and had come almost every other day since. I had yet to receive one today, although it was still very early. I almost hoped it would come, although I knew I wouldn't be able to open it.

 

Because anything Hermione had to say to me in writing could possibly hurt me even worse than the things that had already happened.

 

o-o-o-o

 

I flicked my eyes to the clock. It was nine fifteen. If I got up just this moment, I would have enough time to shower and get to practice on time. I considered it, glancing back at the coffee table.

 

Nine seventeen. It was a waste of time. If I just stayed here, I could tell them I was sick and brood over my aching heart for a few more days.

 

Nine twenty. I might be a few minutes late if I got up now. But I could still make it.

 

Nine twenty-three.

 

I hadn't fully decided on a course of action when I was forcefully ejected from my recliner and onto the floor. I scrambled to the coffee table to grab my wand and pushed myself to my knees, turning around. My eyes widened as I spotted Harry with his wand pointed back at me.

 

“H-how did you get in here?” I asked him, lowering my wand. My voice was raspy from neglect. Harry lowered his wand as well.

 

“I still have privileges to Apparate in and out as I please.” I blinked at him, somewhat annoyed that I had forgotten about that when I'd blocked him from my house.

 

“So, what are you doing here? I thought I told you to leave me alone.” I heard the bitterness in my tone and knew that he wouldn't be pleased with it.

 

“Ginny, the last time I came to you, I told you I would be back.”

 

I remembered the conversation from four days ago, though it was blurry.

 

“ _Ginny, when you decide to get your head back on straight and pull yourself out of your own mind, you need to come to my house. There are things that you need to hear, since you obviously haven't been reading your letters.” I glared at him._

 

“ _I'm a grown woman. I'll do what I please.”_

 

“ _You need to stop being such a child about this! What happened to wanting to handle the situation like an adult and talk it out with Hermione?” I could tell he was frustrated with me. He hardly ever raised his voice if he didn't have to._

 

“ _That was BEFORE she and Ron 'reconciled' on my couch!” I used air-quotes to make my point. Harry rolled his eyes._

 

“ _Ginny, if you would just read your letters, you would understand--”_

 

“ _I'm not going to read them! It doesn't matter what she has to say for herself.” Harry gave me a hard look and took a deep breath._

 

“ _Fine. I'll leave you be for now. But if you're not out of this chair in time for your Quidditch practice on Wednesday, I will pull you out of it myself.” I scoffed at him as he stomped out of my house, slamming the door behind him._

 

I looked at Harry incredulously.

 

“You didn't honestly think I was joking, did you?” he said, smirking. I shook my head.

 

“Look, Harry, you can just give this up while you're ahead. I'm calling in sick to practice today.”

 

“So, what? You're just going to sulk around until your next practice in two more weeks? Are you going to call out of that one, too? You'll get yourself fired!” I scoffed.

 

“They won't fire me. I'm their star chaser.”

 

“They will, too. There will be reporters bugging them about why you haven't started spring practice. And when you become a public relations burden, they'll trade you off. Then you will be stuck with journalists at your door every day, wanting to know if you're on drugs or something!”

 

“Whatever. I'll just get Hermione to--”

 

“IT'S A GREAT FEAT TO GET HERMIONE TO DO ANYTHING FOR YOU IF YOU WONT EVEN READ HER BLOODY APOLOGY LETTERS!” Harry yelled, effectively silencing me. I gaped at him.

 

_Apology letters?_

 

As if he heard the question in my mind, Harry continued.

 

“Every single one of these letters on your table are from Hermione, and every single one contains the most sincere apology anyone could write. Each one begs for a response and pleads for you to meet with her and hear her out. Yet you refuse to even open them. Yesterday, when Hermione still hadn't gotten a response from you, she Flooed into my flat and told me how worried she is about you.

 

“Now listen here, Ginny Weasley,” Harry said, stepping forward and pulling me to my feet. “I am not just another person. I am your friend, just as much as I am Hermione's friend. I saw the way you two watched each other at the Christmas party, and I could have kicked myself for not noticing it sooner, especially with how you and I ended our relationship. Ginny, I know you are hurt immensely by what happened in this very room two weeks ago, but if you're ever going to stop hurting, you need to step up and talk to Hermione and find out what is going on. I'm sure you'll be surprised by what you find.”

 

I merely looked at Harry, his green eyes shining down at me. I remembered how three years ago, I thought that his eyes were the most unique color I had ever seen. They still were very beautiful. But I had found something better. There were a pair of deep, doe brown eyes that sparkled at me every time I looked into them. They held so much knowledge and passion that I couldn't even begin to comprehend. They made me so curious that I wanted to try to know as much as I could.

 

They belonged to a woman who was stuck in her office, sending me letters, begging me to listen to her side of the story. I knew that she had to have felt something that morning, when I woke up next to her with no recollection. She never said anything without thinking it through; that time shouldn't have been any different.

 

Now that I actually stopped my moping and considered the things that had happened, it felt like a fog around me lifted. I returned to the little bits of hope I had held onto before they'd been dashed by Ron and Hermione's kiss. She had to have a reason for telling me she loved me. There had to be a reason why that kiss had felt so amazing that I could still feel its ghost two weeks later.

 

There was always a reason. And even if it was misguided or not the reason I was looking for, I could at least repair the close friendship that had been fractured in the last few weeks. The fact of the matter was, I missed Hermione. These two weeks of no communication had drained me; we had talked almost daily since she and I were 16 and 15 respectively. Yes, I had fallen for her since then, but I could live without her affections as long as I could still have her friendship.

 

I would talk to her.

 

I focused back on Harry's face to see him smiling gently at me. I felt my own lips pull into some kind of smile. Harry nodded.

 

“Now, get upstairs and shower. If you move quickly enough, you can still make it to practice.” I nodded up at him and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. He hugged me back tightly, sighing.

 

“Thank you,” I muttered against his chest. He squeezed me tighter before releasing me. I started for the stairs, only to stop when Harry called my name.

 

“One more thing,” he began. “You are required to be at my house for dinner tonight at seven.” I cocked an eyebrow. “Had you not been so easily broken from your sulking, I would have physically dragged you to my flat and held you hostage.

 

“Hermione will be there, too,” he added as an afterthought.

 

I swallowed hard and nodded at him before turning and running up the stairs to get ready for practice. The physical exertion would be a perfect way to prepare for what I knew would be an emotional evening.

 

As I showered, I worked hard to steel my resolve. When I came back downstairs to Apparate to practice, I paused in the living room. Taking a deep breath, I grabbed the five rolls of parchment off of my coffee table and stuffed them into my bag.

 

I pictured the Harpies' Quidditch pitch and twisted on the spot.

 

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

_-Ginny-_

 

I had to admit that even though I'd spent the last two weeks in a stupor, I was still in great shape.

 

Practice had been a great way to clear my head, just as I had anticipated. The first of the year scrimmage was hard work, reminding my muscles of the actions they had not performed in weeks. I was also great to see my teammates again after we'd practically run home to our families following the Christmas game. They were a great change from my recliner and coffee table.

 

However, I was unsettled by how easily they could tell that something was wrong.

 

Our captain, Gwenog Jones, pulled me aside after we finished our cool-down exercises.

 

“Weasley!” she called in her commanding voice. I ducked out from under the arms of my fellow chasers, Marilou Madison and Jane Sevens, to run back to the center of the pitch.

 

Gwenog was a frightening woman to most people, but she was one of the best team captains I had ever had the pleasure of meeting. She was hard on us when she needed to be, but otherwise she knew that we were smart enough to play with our instincts.

 

“Yes?” I asked as I jogged to a stop by her side.

 

“What's going on with you? You're not feeling right on the pitch.” I blinked. The woman had Quidditch running through her veins.

 

“Er... Well, some stuff happened on Boxing Day--”

 

“Ah, woman troubles! Say no more,” Gwenog said, a tight smile capturing her lips as she started to walk back to the locker rooms. I stared after her for a moment before shaking my head and jogging after her.

 

“Gwen! Hold on,” I called, meeting her pace. “What do you know about 'woman troubles'?”

 

She looked to the ground.

 

“I had some of my own over the holiday,” she admitted sheepishly. “Mine decided I wasn't good enough to be faithful to during our game.” I cringed.

 

“Ouch.”

 

“Yeah. But it's better now. She couldn't handle all this,” Gwen said, gesturing to herself as we entered the empty locker rooms. “What happened with yours?”

 

I tapped my locker with my wand and it sprang open, revealing my bag and the rolled parchment inside it. I swallowed.

 

“Well, she's not really mine, per se,” I started, tucking the letters back into the bag. “But considering that I woke up next to her on Boxing Day, I was pretty sure she _was_ mine.”

 

Gwenog nodded thoughtfully, encouraging me to continue.

 

“Then, I found her snogging her ex on my couch when he came over to try and win her back. I haven't seen either of them since.”

 

Gwen was quiet as we entered our changing stalls. I stepped from mine, waiting patiently for the rustling of clothes to cease in hers. She emerged a moment later in jeans and a t-shirt.

 

“It sounds like a fun time,” she said sarcastically. I nodded. “Did you consider talking to her?”

 

“Well...” I glanced at her carefully. “Actually, I was going to skip practice today and mope some more, but Harry pretty much drove some sense into my skull until I agreed to come to practice AND go to dinner at his house. With her.” Gwen's eyes widened. “She also sent me letters while I was... Otherwise occupied.”

 

“What did they say?” Gwen looked positively riveted as we started to lock up the pitch.

 

“I, uh... I don't know. I never opened them.”

 

Gwenog gasped as if I had told her the entire world was ending. It startled me enough to realize that she had also stopped walking completely. I gaped at her.

 

“You didn't read them?!?”

 

“Um... Not exactly, no.” I was confused by her behavior. She sounded like middle-aged Muggles sound when they gossip about their favorite soap operas. “I didn't want to hurt myself any further.”

 

“No, Ginny,” she said in a hard voice. She jabbed her index finger at me. “You were just a coward. Her letters must have been important if she wants to meet with you for dinner tonight!”

 

“I guess so,” I muttered, cocking an eyebrow at her.

 

“You need to read those letters before you meet with her tonight. You need to know all the facts you can before she tells you anything!”

 

I just stared at her.

 

“Ginny, are you LISTENING to me?!?” she screeched. I glanced around to make sure no one was witnessing her completely out of character behavior.

 

“I am. You're just... Acting strange.”

 

“I'm not acting _strange_. Now go! Go home and read those letters! I want to hear a good report next practice!”

 

With that over-the-top statement, Gwenog disappeared with a crack. I shook my head, dumbfounded.

 

o-o-o-o

 

I sat in my living room staring once more at the coffee table. But this time, I had different reasons.

 

I had returned from practice several hours before, having taken the long way home to give myself time to think over what Harry and Gwenog had said. Although Gwen's behavior was very confusing, I knew she was right; I had to read the letters. So, I had laid them out on my coffee table in order.

 

I just hadn't decided to start yet.

 

I'd picked up around my bedroom, washing the laundry I had neglected. I threw out any food that had gone bad in my refrigerator. I showered and dressed for dinner, although I was considering a change in outfit. After all of that, there was no more reason to stall. I had to start somewhere.

 

Just as I reached for the first roll of parchment, I heard a tapping noise from my kitchen. I glanced back at the letters and decided to investigate. When I got to the kitchen, I saw a familiar brown owl at my window. He really looked peeved for having to deliver to my house for the sixth time.

 

“Oh, Harold,” I muttered, unlocking the window and pushing the pane up for the owl to come in. He shook his leg at me impatiently, glaring at me.

 

“I'm sorry, alright?” I said, pulling the roll of parchment from his leg. He hooted at me and took off through the window, completely ignoring the treat I was reaching for. I shook my head and looked at the parcel.

 

It was rolled and tied just as uniformly as the previous five, but I could feel that it was the longest yet. I swallowed involuntarily. It looked like I had my starting point.

 

I closed the window and flicked off the kitchen light before returning to my recliner. I pulled the knot from the string that held the roll together and tossed it to the floor. The rolled parchment instantly expanded in my hands, wanting to unroll itself. With a deep breath, I pulled it completely open.

 

_Ginny,_

 

_I'm hoping that you decided to read this letter. Of course, I was also hoping you would read all the others, so I don't know how much I can count on you actually doing it._

 

_I really miss you, Ginny. These two weeks have been nothing but a blur to me. I haven't been sleeping right and concentrating on the job that I love is getting harder. It's so hard not being able to talk to you about my problems regularly considering that is usually what I do in these situations. However, I know that this is a completely different kind of problem and it involves you. To top that off, I know you won't talk to me._

 

_I haven't talked to Ron since Boxing Day. He sent me a letter last week, but I burned it after a single glance. I have been talking to Harry, though. He has told me that you haven't left your house in two weeks. He said that at the last check, you hadn't even opened any of my previous letters._

 

_It hurts me to hear that you don't even want to know what I have to say, but I cannot say that I blame you. What you saw must have crushed you. I know it crushed me to see the pain on your face. I wish you would have stayed; I still wanted to finish our conversation. But I see that would have made it too simple._

 

_You didn't deserve to see what you saw. I cannot apologize enough for my poor judgment. I just want to talk with you again. I want to work this out, Ginny. I cannot let this silence between us continue. That is why I am hoping against all odds that if you have to choose a letter to read, it would be this one. We need to fix this. I can't go another day without hearing from you._

 

_Please write me back._

 

_With love,_

_Hermione_

 

I didn't put the letter down until I read it two more times. By then, there were tears on my face.

 

Hermione missed me as much as I missed her.

 

We had never gone more than a few days without talking, the only exception being when Hermione and Ron helped Harry hunt horcruxes in my sixth year. That hadn't hurt nearly as bad as this separation because this time I knew I could do something about it.

 

Gwen was right again. I was a coward.

 

Before, when we had a problem between the two of us, we settled it. There was no break in communication. Like the time Hermione threw away the drawing of a flower that Dean Thomas had made for me in my fifth year. She thought she was helping me get over him. I was beyond livid; it was the most beautiful thing anyone had ever drawn for me by hand. I had wanted to keep it. That time, Hermione and I talked it over and I told her how I felt. We resolved the issue right then.

 

This time, I had been a brooding child. I didn't want to step up and rectify the situation. Instead, I was placing blame and sulking, getting all my information from assumptions.

 

In her letter, she mentioned that she should have used better judgment. She also said that she hadn't seen my brother since that day. I did not know what those things meant, but I was tired of making assumptions.

 

Without anymore stalling, I stood from my recliner and pulled on my coat. I wiped the tears from my face and picked up my wand from the end table, turning on the spot.

 

After a great deal of unpleasant squeezing and bending, I appeared in Harry's kitchen with a pop.

 

“Gah!” he yelled, jumping in fright and dropping the egg in his hand to pull out his wand. He trained it on me and I threw my hands up.

 

“Whoa, it's just me, Harry!” He lowered his wand and put a hand on his heart.

 

“Merlin, Ginny! I swear, you people don't care about letting a guy know you're coming over, do you?”

 

“Harry, you knew I was coming over. You're the one who told me to be here at seven.”

 

“Gin, it's only six fifteen.”

 

I glanced at the clock. He was right.

 

“Oh. Well... I can come back later if you want.” Harry shook his head.

 

“No, that's fine. I just wasn't expecting you so early is all.”

 

I pointed my wand at the mess of egg yolk and shells on Harry's kitchen floor and muttered a quick incantation to clean it up. Harry turned back to the counter and cracked a fresh egg into the bowl in front of him.

 

“Have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the already set kitchen table. I noted that there were only two settings.

 

“Are you sure you don't need help?” I asked. Harry looked stressed. Perhaps it was the fright I just gave him.

 

“No, I'm fine.”

 

I watched him for another moment before walking to his living room. I spotted his single bookcase and bee-lined for it, knowing he had received plenty of books as gifts that he would never read. Sure enough, there were several new, exhaustive volumes about the origin of wizard currency and exchange rates. Those were probably from Bill.

 

As I scanned the titles, I came across one that had no title on the spine. It was an unprofessionally-bound manuscript of what appeared to be an unpublished work. I pulled it out of its space between two other books and looked at the front cover.

 

_Trading My Wand for a Television:A Comprehensive Informational Work on Muggle Culture_

 

I raised an eyebrow. The title was a mouthful that I had never heard of before. It looked like an interesting read, so I plopped into one of Harry's chairs and flipped open the front cover. As I had suspected, it had no publishing information in the front. I turned the page to see a contents list that looked like it wasn't finished yet. Skipping past a few different renditions of a title page, I found the first page of text and began to read.

 

It had a very promising start. The author used the first two chapters to describe many long-held beliefs about Muggles and their culture that I knew and some that I didn't. After a quick piece about European Muggle history, it jumped right into the information that disproved those long-held beliefs.

 

“Comprehensive” was a great word to describe the amount of information I got from just the fourth chapter. It made light of the similarities between wizards and Muggles in a way that wasn't prejudiced or condescending. It was like the author _really_ understood what they were writing about.

 

I was so enthralled by the text that I didn't hear the quiet pop of someone Apparating into Harry's kitchen. I did, however, hear the clamor of a cast iron pan and its scalding contents hitting the floor.

 

I shot out of my chair in a flash, tearing through the doorway of the kitchen with my wand drawn. Harry was pale as if he were about to faint, staring dejectedly at the mess of food on the floor. His guest, however, had her wand pointed at me with a confused look on her face. I was sure my face matched.  
  
Hermione lowered her wand and glanced to Harry. I stuck mine back into my pocket and let out a deep breath.  
  
"Are you alright?" Hermione asked Harry. Her voice sounded strained, but still familiar and comforting. Harry frowned at her.  
  
"I would be if you women would stop popping into my kitchen and scaring the wits out of me!" he growled in response. "Honestly, I think I'm overdue for a heart attack. You could knock, you know."  
  
Hermione looked sheepish as she waved her wand to clean up the mess. The pan landed back on the stove and its scattered contents made their way to the trash can. With a quick flick of her wrist, more ingredients appeared and the food began to prepare itself. Harry sighed and raked a hand through his untidy black hair.  
  
I watched quietly as Hermione worked. She had dark circles under her eyes and her skin was pale, making her freckles stand out more than usual.  
  
"Thank you," Harry muttered, turning and taking over the cooking. He shook his head as he stirred the food. I looked back to Hermione and she met my eyes.  
  
As I stared into her deep brown eyes, I felt my heart swell. She was what I wanted and I was finally seeing her for the first time in two weeks. Her pale skin flushed pink while we stared at each other. I took a quick breath and broke our eye contact, turning and heading back to my chair and the book I had been reading.  
  
My stomach was tight with nerves as I took my seat. I picked up the book with shaky hands and pulled it back open to the page I had last read. I stared at the text on the page without really seeing it.  
  
I was definitely nervous, but I knew I could handle it. We could make small talk as we ate, though I didn't know if Harry would be staying. Regardless, after eating, we could dig right into the hard facts.  
  
While I was stuck in thought, I heard quiet footsteps come into the living room. They stopped abruptly and I glanced up to see Hermione blushing profusely, her eyes trained on the book in my hand. She cleared her throat.  
  
"What's that you're reading?" she asked quietly, dropping her eyes to the floor.  
  
" _Trading My Wand for a Television:A Comprehensive Informational Work on Muggle Culture_ ," I read from the cover. "It's a great book, but the title's a little wordy."  
  
Hermione's blush deepened, although her lips twitched into a smirk. Her eyes met mine again.  
  
"I'm glad you like it."  
  
We stared at each other for a long moment. I watched in my peripheral vision as her blush slowly faded away and the smirk slid gently from her lips. She then pressed her lips together as she cleared her throat again. And just like that, the spell was broken.  
  
"I think Harry's got the food ready," she said a little breathlessly. I nodded and stood to replace the book on the shelf.   
  
As I slipped the book into its place, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I shivered involuntarily and turned to see that Hermione had strode up behind me, much closer than she was before. I suddenly felt very warm and took a deep breath through my nose to calm my racing heart. Hermione reached a hand up and placed it on my upper arm very lightly, almost too lightly. She was trembling.  
  
"Ginny," she whispered, leaning very slightly closer to me. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. My entire body felt like it was on fire. I felt like I was being pulled to her little by little until we were mere inches apart...  
  
"Ladies! Din--oh!" Harry's voice was loud compared the tense silence we had been in and it startled us apart like lightning. Harry's ears were red and he was looking determinedly at the floor. He looked abashed and I felt my own ears growing hot.  
  
"Erm..." he began, "Dinner's, uh, ready."

 

Hermione cleared her throat for the third time.

 

“Ah... Thanks,” she mumbled.

 

I licked my lips and brushed past her into the kitchen, avoiding eye contact with either of them. That moment in the living room had been way too close. There was no way we could work this out if we didn't talk first. I would just have to stay in control.

 

I took a seat in front of one of the place settings on the table. While I'd been reading, Harry had plated the modest steaks and sides in a rather appealing configuration. He'd paired the meal with a dark red wine. If my stomach hadn't been so tight with nerves, I might have tried to steal a taste before Hermione joined me.

 

“Gin,” Harry said, startling me. I looked up from my plate and gave him a weak smile. He walked to me, leaning down to whisper in my ear. “Good luck.”

 

He placed a chaste kiss on my cheek. I felt myself blush as I turned to look at him and ask him if he was staying. I caught his gaze to see him wink at me with a tiny smirk. Then, with a pop, he Disapparated.

 

That answered my question.

 

I stared at the place he had been standing without really focusing on anything. I was taking deep breaths to calm myself, trying desperately not to freak out and run. That wouldn't solve anything. No, I needed to be here for myself and for Hermione.

 

She walked into the kitchen as I thought of her, her cheeks still somewhat pink. Her lips twitched into a small smile as she took her seat across from me. She looked into my eyes and picked up her fork carefully, cutting into her steak gently. I followed suit in silence knowing that one of us would have to start this show. However, from experience, I knew it would have to be me.

 

So, after a sip of wine, I cleared my throat to speak.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to Hermione's POV.

 

Ginny cleared her throat and set her fork down.  
  
"Hermione, I read your letter," she said quietly. I glanced into her eyes.  
  
"Which one?" I asked.  
  
"The last one. It arrived right after I came home from practice today. Harold was so peeved that he took off before I could give him his treat."  
  
I smirked at her. My owl, Harold, was known to be somewhat moody if he had to deliver to a single person more than once in a week. I don't think he had the patience to see the same people all the time. Regardless, he was a great owl and I wouldn't trade him for anything.  
  
"Yes, I'm sure he was tired of coming home only to be sent straight back out," I said. Ginny chuckled and smiled a genuine smile. It was contagious.  
  
We fell back into silence as Ginny clasped her hands in front of her on the table. I wanted to ask her about the letter, but she looked as though she was concentrating on something. I sipped my wine and tried not to worry too much while she thought.  
  
"Hermione," she began after a moment, leaning forward on the table, "I appreciate that you wrote to me while I was... Alone. And I want to apologize for not reading your other letters when they arrived. It was childish of me to think that I could avoid the problem and maybe it would be solved. If it weren't for Harry showing up and practically kicking me out of my own house, I might never have left.”  
  
"I don't think you could stand to be alone in your house forever," I muttered with a grin. "I'm surprised your mother didn't try to force you out."  
  
"She would have if I had told her I was moping. But she knows that I don't like it when she just shows up at my house, so that's probably why she didn't try."  
  
I nodded thoughtfully, remembering how angry Ginny used to get whenever her mother would floo to her house uninvited. I knew Ginny loved her parents, but she loved her privacy, too.  
  
I speared another bite of steak onto my fork and brought it to my lips as silence fell between us again. As I chewed, I thought back to what had almost happened in the living room minutes ago. I hadn't meant to stand so close to her while she was shelving my book. It had just happened.

 

I frowned to myself, staring at my plate. That excuse didn't even sound plausible to me.

 

_I walked into the living room after sharing a knowing glance with Harry. He may have been frustrated by my sudden appearance, but he was still trying to encourage me. I thought that perhaps I could get a few of the things I needed to apologize for off of my chest before we ate. Harry's glance told me that he agreed._

 

_However, I forgot what I was going to say when I spotted the book in Ginny's hands._

 

_It was the book I was currently working to perfect. I had given Harry an older version for safekeeping, in case something happened to the one I was working on. I charmed it so that I could transfer any new material that I added to it with a tap of my wand. And there Ginny was, almost one third of the way through it, looking like she was completely focused on the material._

 

_I felt my face flush. I hadn't given Ginny a copy of my book because I had wanted it to be a surprise when I published it. I knew she would appreciate a book like that._

 

_She looked up from the book and I cleared my throat._

 

“ _What's that you're reading?” I asked, averting my eyes. Of course I knew the answer. But perhaps I could maintain the element of surprise for whenever I did publish it._

 

“Trading My Wand for a Television:A Comprehensive Informational Work on Muggle Culture _. It's a great book, but the title's a little wordy,” she said. I felt my cheeks heat even more at her suggestion that my title was too long. I wanted to tell her to think of a better title, but I swallowed that reply and smirked, meeting her eyes again._

 

“ _I'm glad you like it.”_

 

_Her eyes held me captive, making me momentarily forget what we had been talking about. Even with dark circles under her eyes, she was stunning. Her fiery hair hung straight around her face, framing it and making her pale skin glow. I was mesmerized by her beauty in her simple outfit of jeans and a nice blouse. She could honestly look good in anything._

 

_Slowly, awareness crept back in to my mind. Harry had to be nearly finished with dinner by now, and it was about time we got to talking. I cleared my throat._

 

“ _I think Harry's got the food ready,” I said, cursing my airy voice. Ginny nodded to me and stood, approaching the bookshelf._

 

_I walked closer to her, meaning only to escort her to the kitchen where we would be eating. However, I found myself standing directly behind her, staring at the back of her head. I noticed her shoulders shudder slightly before she turned to face me. She looked a little surprised to see me so close to her. Her face flushed slightly, and her lips fell open so she could take a breath. I felt my shaking hand moving toward her and was powerless to stop myself, laying it very lightly on her upper arm._

 

“ _Ginny,” I whispered, caught in her mocha gaze once more. I was focused on her eyes, hardly noticing that they appeared to be closer than they had mere seconds ago. I could feel the heat of her body so close..._

 

“ _Ladies! Din—oh!”_

 

_In a split second, I realized how close I was to Ginny. Our lips were nearly touching._

 

_We sprang apart quickly, my gaze never leaving her face._

 

I shook my head, trying to clear the memory from my mind. I was ashamed that I had nearly attacked Ginny before we had even had a chance to talk. I knew it would only make things harder for us. But I also knew that I hadn't tried that hard to stop myself.

 

I took a quick sip of my wine and noticed that Ginny was watching me with an odd look in her eyes. I swallowed the liquid and raised an eyebrow at her. With a sigh, she set down her knife and fork and pushed her unfinished plate away from her.

 

“Look, Hermione, we're not going to get anywhere by being awkward.” My eyes widened at Ginny's calm but annoyed tone. She was frowning slightly as she drank the last of her wine. Then, with a sigh, she began to speak.

 

“When I woke up on Boxing Day, I had no idea how you got into my bed. I racked my brain to figure out why we were naked, because I didn't remember ever telling you how I felt about you.”

 

“How you felt about me?” I interrupted. Ginny held up a finger.

 

“Let me finish,” she said. I pressed my lips together. “I didn't remember much from the night before after the shots I took with my family. I knew you side-alonged us to my house, and I knew you had been crying. All I could remember after that were vague, fuzzy things.

 

“In the middle of trying to figure all this out, you told me you loved me. Then you kissed me like I never knew you could kiss. I'm not going to lie, Hermione. It was amazing to wake up next to you like that and to feel like you really loved me for just a moment. But I spent the rest of the morning trying my hardest to believe it was true, while at the same time trying to convince myself that the things you said and did were platonic. I was happy one second and scared the next. And then Ron had to come over and mess it all up!”

 

Ginny had tears in her eyes, dropping her head into her hands. I heard her sniffle and breathe deeply for a moment. I felt my own eyes start to water.

 

“Merlin, Hermione... You have _no idea_ how devastated I was. I thought for sure you would reject him, but when I came back down and saw you two...”

 

“Ginny--”I started, reaching a hand across the table to comfort her. Her head shot up from her hands and glared at me with her red-rimmed eyes.

 

“No! I'm not finished!” she snapped. I was taken aback by her sharp tone, knowing that she was feeling very raw. I knew I was as well.

 

“You told me you loved me!” she growled, pointing at me as more tears streamed down her face. “You told me you loved me and you kissed me and you made me believe it. And then you went and snogged MY brother on MY couch in MY house. I couldn't stand it, Hermione!”

 

I just stared at her, my own face feeling rather wet. I used my napkin to dab at my eyes as Ginny closed her eyes with a shuddering breath.

 

“I have loved you since I was fifteen years old, Hermione. Do you have any idea how that made me feel?” She opened her dark eyes, staring right through me.

 

I was shocked by her admission, although I had been hoping for it.

 

_Ginny loved me._

 

But I knew that I had hurt her immensely. I knew how hard it had been back at Hogwarts, when I was head-over-heels for Ron and he had dated Lavender Brown. They snogged in every corner of the common room as if it were a perfectly acceptable practice. Seeing that had made me crazy with anger and hurt, even though I didn't know if Ron reciprocated my feelings. I could only imagine how she felt, knowing now that she really loved me.

 

I remembered the strangled sob that had escaped when she saw Ron's mouth on mine. She had run from her own home to escape the pain that I had caused. It was time to make it right.

 

“Ginny,” I muttered, trying to swallow back more tears. “I'm so sorry... You have no idea how terrible I feel about what happened--”

 

“YOU feel terrible?” Ginny screeched, her voice strong despite her tears. I gaped at her.

 

“Yes, I do!” I said, trying not to raise my voice. Ginny was getting more worked up and I really did not want to argue with her when we were supposed to be fixing things. “Ginny, if I knew that--”

 

Ginny shoved her chair back from the table and stood quickly, startling me.

 

“If you knew that I was coming downstairs, you would have stopped shoving your tongue down my brother's throat until later? Is that it? Or were you going to say that if you had known I loved you the whole time, you would have left before I woke and I would never have known the difference?”

 

“Ginny, I--”

 

“You broke my heart when you started dating him! And just when I thought I had a chance with you, you ran right back to him! I've been out of my mind for TWO WEEKS over you!”

 

“And you think I haven't?” I shouted, tossing my now soaked napkin onto the table. “Did you lie about reading my letter? You think it's been all sunshine and rainbows in MY life since Boxing Day?”

 

“Well, it must have been better than my MISERABLE existence!”

 

I felt a flash of anger course through me. She and her brother had one thing in common, although she never showed as much of a penchant for it as she did right at that moment.

 

They both had the amazing ability to absolutely infuriate me.

 

Before I knew it, I was on my feet as well, my chair scraping across the floor tiles loudly as it shot out from under me.

 

“Oh, quit playing the victim, Ginevra,” I hissed angrily. “You know just as well as I do that YOU kept YOURSELF holed up in your house like a petulant child.”

 

Her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed.

 

“I just told you I was hurting.”

 

“HOW DO YOU THINK I WAS FEELING?” I yelled. Ginny took a step back. “I was hurting just as much as you were! You know how it feels to watch your love kiss someone else, but do you know how it feels to be IGNORED by the person you love when ALL you want to do is FIX THE PROBLEM?”

 

Ginny took a deep breath in, but I leaned forward and continued speaking before she could start in.

 

“I don't know if you noticed, but I was trying to push your brother off of me. He asked me to marry him that morning, Ginny,” I said, trying hard to make my voice sound more calm. Ginny just reddened even more. “He thought he could win me back. Your brother wants a woman that I cannot be for him and I told him that. When I told him he was an idiot for trying to get me back, he accused me of loving someone else, assuming that I had an affair with Harry. I denied it, but he didn't believe me. He then pinned me to the couch and kissed me, I suppose because he thought it would make me want him.”

 

“Maybe you lied. Maybe you really are with Harry.” Ginny let out a sarcastic chuckle. “No wonder you never tried to come over to my house the last two weeks instead of sending letters.”

 

I gasped and let out a growl of frustration, turning on my heel and stomping out to the living room. I needed to cool off and clear my head before I said something I would regret.

 

However, Ginny apparently didn't share the same idea. She followed me from the kitchen, placing a hand on my shoulder and turning me around to face her. She glared at me from mere inches away.

 

“Is that it? Are you really with Harry?” Ginny asked, looking just as hurt and angry as I felt.

 

“You know you wouldn't have let me in if I'd come over to your house, Ginny!” I yelled. Her lips pulled into a frown.

 

“How do you know that for sure?” She raised her voice again as well. So much for clearing my head.

 

“Because, Ginny! I KNOW you! I know you closed your floo off AND removed my Apparating privileges from your house so I couldn't get in. It's JUST LIKE something you would do if you were hurting!”

 

“Oh, so now you know me SO WELL!” she said. “For someone who hurts her friends like this, that's saying something.”

 

“WILL YOU SHUT UP AND LET ME EXPLAIN?!” I screamed. The tension in the room was palpable, weighing me down as I breathed heavily. Ginny's face was almost as red as her hair and her tears were still flowing.

 

“I asked you a question and you avoided it! It doesn't look like you're too keen on explaining yourself!” I was stricken. Ginny gave as good as she got, as I knew well from our time at Hogwarts. I had just never been on the receiving end before.

 

“What question?”

 

“Are you with Harry? Because if that's the case, I'll just go straight back to my house and act like a child for a little while longer.”

 

“Oh my word, just listen to yourself! Of COURSE I'm not with Harry! Merlin, you can be JUST like Ron sometimes. I swear--”

 

“DO NOT compare me to that ignorant prick!” Ginny yelled, jabbing a finger toward me.

 

“Well quit acting like him!”

 

Ginny put both hands in her hair and balled them into fists, looking absolutely devastated once more. It hurt my heart to see that look on her face again, but I was too angry to care. With a huff, she turned around and paced away from me, pulling her hands from her now mussed hair. She made her way back to me and stopped a few feet away.

 

“Hermione, I think we're done here,” she said quietly. Her voice sounded dead and her words hit me like a blow to the chest.

 

“What?” I asked, my confusion and hurt melting the anger away from me.

 

“This is not going the way I planned,” she muttered. “Obviously, we are in two completely different mindsets. You should go.”

 

I gaped at her silently, trying to stop the never-ending torrent of tears from falling. She had her hard stare fixed on me as if she was attempting to convince herself that it was over. But I knew her better than that.

 

“No, Ginny,” I began, taking a careful step forward. “We're in exactly the same mindset.”

 

Her lips twitched, though her hard stare did not budge.

 

“What is that supposed to mean?”

 

“I did lie to Ron.” Her eyes widened and the hard stare finally broke into a mask of hurt.

 

“Then you lied to me, too. Because you just told me you weren't with Harry.”

 

Ginny turned, her shoulders slumped, and slowly walked toward the kitchen. I sighed.

 

“You didn't let me finish,” I said. She froze in the doorway, facing away from me.

 

“I lied to Ron about being in love with someone else. I've never loved Harry as anything more than a brother. But I love you more than I have ever loved anyone else in the entire world.”

 

She was silent for a long time, leaning against the door frame. I walked up behind her, stopping a few feet from the doorway. She turned around to face me, her eyes dry.

 

“Why didn't you tell me that sooner?” she whispered. I took another step closer to her.

 

“I was trying to. But you had me a little preoccupied.”

 

“So you don't love Ron and you don't love Harry...” Ginny was staring hard at the floor. “Are you telling me the truth?”

 

I took another step and reached out to place my hand under Ginny's chin. I gently pressed into her jaw until she lifted her head to look me in the eye. A warmth spread from where my hand touched her skin to the rest of my body. It melted away the pain from the last few minutes, calming me for the first time since I'd come to Harry's this evening.

 

“I'm not lying to you, Ginny. I love you so very much. It is my fault that you hurt so much right now, because I should have told Ron to leave so we could finish our conversation then and there. If I had done that, you wouldn't have questioned it and you never would have walked in on Ron kissing me. I'm so sorry that you were hurt by his actions and that I didn't try to come to your house and talk with you.”

 

“No, you were right,” she said, sniffling a little. “I blocked everyone out, except for Harry. I forgot about his privileges. You wouldn't have gotten in. And I'm sorry for not reading your letters and for acting like a child and--”

 

In a moment of pure instinct, I slid my hand from her chin to the back of her neck and leaned my head in quickly. Ginny's words were cut off as my lips met hers and my other hand cupped her cheek. She tensed her body for a moment, before relaxing and placing her hands on my face.

 

I was a gallimaufry of emotions as I moved my lips against Ginny's. There was love, trust and relief mixed in with the last bits of my pain and anger. But now that we had said everything we needed to say, I knew I didn't have to hold back. I needed to prove to Ginny that I meant what I said once and for all.

 

Her lips were like heaven and I cherished their softness before she parted them to my tongue. I gently worked my tongue against hers, causing her to pull my face and body closer to her and wrap her arms around me tightly. I felt constricted, but definitely not in a bad way. The taste of her mouth overwhelmed me and a quiet moan sounded from the back of my throat. It was lost in her mouth as she began to move it more vigorously against mine.

 

I buried my hands in her bright, smooth hair and pulled her against me as tight as she had me. We continued to kiss and pull at each other for what felt like hours, exploring each other's mouths and pouring our very souls into each other. For the first time in my life, I felt truly connected to someone as all the remaining negativity drained from my body. This kiss was not about coming together for the first time, because we had already experienced that in a sense. No, this kiss was about healing one another from our petty mistakes.

 

We pulled apart after several long minutes, both breathing heavily and still clutching each other tightly. As we calmed further, we slowly untangled ourselves and I took a small step away from her. I glanced at her and smiled. Her lips were pleasantly swollen and her cheeks were lightly flushed. And if I had thought her hair was mussed before, it was in shambles now.

 

She met my gaze, a small smile tugging at her own lips. Taking a quick breath, she extended one hand toward me in invitation. I reached out and slid my fingers in between hers, twining our hands together. It felt so right that the smile on my face grew a little larger.

 

Ginny looked at our joined hands for a moment, still silent. And then she looked directly back into my eyes. Her dark orbs flitted between mine, gauging my reaction.

 

“Hermione...” she muttered. I nodded to her.

 

She raised our hands to her face and pressed her lips against my knuckles.

 

“Well, it's about bloody time!”

 

Our faces snapped around to look in the doorway of the kitchen. Harry stood with his arm wrapped around the shoulders of a woman I vaguely recognized. I raised an eyebrow at him as Ginny smirked.

 

“I thought you two would never finish.” He grinned cheekily at us, pointing at the clock. It was nearly nine thirty.

 

Ginny giggled at Harry.

 

“What?” he asked, his ears reddening. His guest smirked a little.

 

“Nothing,” Ginny muttered, her grin firmly in place. She glanced at me with sparkling eyes, squeezing my hand a little tighter in hers.

 

And then she turned on the spot and Harry's kitchen disappeared.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Ginny's POV.

_SIX MONTHS LATER_

 

“Miss Weasley?”

 

I glanced up from last month's copy of Witch Weekly to see a pair of blue eyes staring at me from across the room.

 

“Hermione's finished with the Minister. You can go on in.”

 

I smiled and stood from the uncomfortable plastic chair I'd been occupying for the last half hour.

 

_You would think that the Ministry of Magic would have better seating..._ I thought to myself.

 

“Thanks a lot, Maggie,” I gushed, grinning at the blue-eyed receptionist. “And I've told you before, please call me Ginny.”

 

The older woman blushed, a small smile twitching at her lips.

 

Maggie was a huge Harpies fan and I knew she was pleased that her boss was close to the star chaser. She told me as much the third time I ever came to the Ministry to take Hermione to lunch. Maggie's enthusiasm was very refreshing, so I made sure she and her teenage son always had good seats at the home games.

 

“And say hello to Jamie for me.”

 

With that, I turned and followed the edge of Maggie's long desk to the open corridor of office doors. I bee-lined for the second door from the left, eyeing the shiny gold nameplate appreciatively. It always made me proud to see it. I reached out to the knob and turned.

 

The first thing I saw was the back of an office chair. After a moment, the chair turned slightly and I caught sight of a few wisps of brown hair. I smirked and stepped fully into the office, causing its occupant to take notice of me.

 

“Ginny.”

 

This was the first time I had seen Hermione in a month and she was a sight for sore eyes.

 

She turned around fully in her chair and beamed at me. I took in her bright eyes and rosy cheeks, feeling my own lips curl into a grin to match hers. Her flowing brown hair was pulled into a loose ponytail at the base of her neck, accentuating the curve of her shoulder. I glanced back to her face and our eyes locked as she stood and moved around her desk toward me. The office door clicked softly as I pushed it closed.

 

“What are you doing here?” she whispered, coming to a stop mere inches from me. I felt a flush shoot through my body and quickly swallowed the lump in my throat. Hermione placed one of her hands high on my chest, her fingers brushing against the ends of my hair. “I thought you had practice.”

 

“Cancelled,” I sputtered out. “Latrevia hexed a Magpies fan.”

 

“Hmm,” Hermione hummed, sliding her hand over my shoulder and around the back of my neck. She pulled me to her and kissed me softly.

 

Hermione had been traveling to other Ministries of Magic around Europe for the last four weeks. Minister Shacklebolt had entrusted her with the task of meeting with each minister and presenting a new European Magical Creatures Act that would grant the same rights that sentient creatures had in Britain to creatures all across the continent. If it was a success, Shacklebolt and Hermione hoped to spread the word to other continents and create global equality for magical creatures.

 

My girl dreamed big.

 

As proud as I was of her accomplishments with wizarding law, it was hell being away from her for a month. I had thrown myself into Quidditch, convincing Gwen to draw out the practices until my fellow chasers caught on and put a stop to it. After that, I tried to spend more time with Harry. He, however, was busy with his new “girl of the month”. Over the last six months, he'd had a few girlfriends and they'd all looked vaguely familiar. I just couldn't place where I'd seen them before. When time with Harry was a bust, I was forced to spend too much time at the Burrow with my mother.

 

She knew something was up when I came sulking into her house two weeks ago. I was subjected to question after question, none of which I answered with complete honesty. It's not that I didn't want her to know about Hermione and I's relationship; mostly that I didn't want _Ron_ to know just yet.

 

Ronald. He was another story entirely.

 

Once Hermione and I finally worked things out, he tried again to win her back. She took him to dinner and made sure he knew that she didn't want him like that anymore. Hermione assured me that he understood, but if I knew my brother, things were far from over.

 

My mother had been frustrated with me because I wouldn't give her any information. However, I think she caught on enough to know I was missing a special someone in my life. I just hoped she hadn't put Hermione's business trip together with my brooding.

 

But now, Hermione was back. That meant I could finally leave my mother, Harry, and my teammates alone so that maybe things would cool down.

 

At least for them. As for myself...

 

I gasped in a breath of air as Hermione pulled away slightly.

 

“I've missed you,” she mumbled against my lips. I shivered in response. “A month is entirely too long.”

 

“I agree,” I whispered. With a great effort, I placed my hands on her shoulders and pushed her back a step. She regarded me curiously.

 

“Which is why I'm taking you to lunch.”

 

Her lips quirked into a devilish smirk and I caught the twinkle in her eye.

 

“Let me just clear my afternoon schedule, then.”

 

o-o-o-o

 

Hermione swung our intertwined hands between us as we walked the Muggle storefronts of London. After a delicious lunch at a small French bistro, we decided to do a little window shopping. It was summer, after all, and if I played a game or two in an exotic location, we would need to be prepared.

 

Or maybe that was just my excuse to get Hermione to spend more time with me before we had to be at the Burrow for dinner tonight. Even though it was still another week until Harry's birthday, my mum wanted to have a family dinner in celebration of Hermione's return.

 

“Look at those, Gin!” Hermione exclaimed, pulling me toward a small antique shop with a display in the window. A female-shaped mannequin was leaning over as if to showcase the small items of furniture at her side. I sighed, seeing the beautiful designs carved into the side of two particular pieces.

 

Hermione thought I needed new night stands in my bedroom. You would think that after a month away, she would have forgotten it.

 

“Yeah, they look great,” I said halfheartedly. She cocked her head at me. It was only a matter of time before I would cave in and let her buy them for me, but it was so much fun to mess with her.

 

She scoffed at me playfully.

 

“Let's just go take a look around. Maybe you'll find something else you like that you will actually let me buy for you.”

 

I allowed Hermione to drag me by our joined hands into the store with a smile. She pulled me around to the backside of the window display, glancing at the price tags on the two nightstands.

 

“Hermione.”

 

“Fine!” she grumbled, releasing my hand and stalking away to another part of the shop without me. I watched her with a smile still plastered to my face.

 

In the six months that we had been together, I had grown more and more fond of Hermione. I knew she was witty, brilliant, and beautiful; I just didn't know quite how much. And though she'd been gone for a month, we fell back into our stride as if it were only yesterday that we saw each other last.

 

I trailed a way behind Hermione, watching her glance at a set of mismatched goblets before something else caught her eye. She sauntered over to a jewelery display to poke around at the necklaces. But I caught how her eyes kept flicking to a simple bracelet on the counter. Pretending to investigate the goblets, I sneakily watched Hermione pick up the bracelet and examine it.

 

She put it down after a short moment, turning and walking instead to a bookshelf. I watched as she browsed the titles and continued around the other side. Once she was out of sight, I quickly went to the counter myself and picked up the bracelet.

 

It wasn't an extravagant thing; a plain cable bracelet. However, the silver swirled around itself intricately as if it was wound into the unassumingly beautiful design by accident. The hook-and-eye clasp was framed by two thicker pieces of silver with the same swirly design carved into them. It almost looked Celtic, though I knew it wasn't.

 

I glanced over my shoulder to make sure Hermione was still out of sight before catching the salesperson's eye. She walked over quickly and glanced at me curiously. I leaned in.

 

“Can you wrap this up for me?” I whispered, pointing at the bracelet. The clerk opened her mouth to speak, nodding. “Quietly! Here,” I said, pulling a few Muggle bills from my bag and handing them to her. She winked at me and took the money and bracelet, disappearing to the front of the store.

 

I stuffed my hands in my pockets and made my way to the front counter, where the clerk was just getting my change together. She glanced up at me with a smile and I went to retrieve the package.

 

“Here you are. It's a lovely piece,” she said quietly, handing me the small square box and my change with a smile. “She's going to love it.”

 

I felt my cheeks flame and glanced over my shoulder again. Hermione was putting down the book she had been flicking through on the other side of the bookcase. I quickly stuffed everything into my bag and smirked at the clerk.

 

“I think so, too,” I replied, just as Hermione started looking around for me. When she spotted me by the front counter, she grinned and made her way to me.

 

“So how about those nightstands?” I asked in a normal voice, pointing to the display in the window. The clerk shot me a sly wink just as Hermione made it to my side.

 

“Reconsidering?” she asked, slipping her hand into mine. I readjusted my bag on my shoulder and looked into her eyes.

 

“Never.”

 

Hermione scoffed at me.

 

“Oh, Gin,” she muttered, shaking her head. Then, she glanced at her watch. “We had better get going.”

 

“Didn't find anything you like?”

 

“Not this time,” Hermione replied. “But we might be back.”

 

“Whatever you say.”

 

Hermione just smiled at me as she lead me out of the store. I winked at the clerk on the way out and she waved back.

 

o-o-o-o

 

I stumbled out of the rush of green flames I had been surrounded by and quickly moved out of the way of the fireplace. Within seconds, Hermione lurched out of the flames and swayed on her feet, dangerously close to losing her balance. I quickly grasped her shoulders to steady her; she smiled gratefully.

 

“You might want to check your Floo connection,” she gasped, shaking soot from her hair. “I don't remember it being so rocky.”

 

“Well, I don't use it very often, either,” I replied. Hermione dropped her bag onto the coffee table and headed straight for the bathroom to freshen up. I glanced at the clock to see that we still had a few hours before we had to be at the Burrow.

 

I set my bag on my recliner and made my way up the stairs. When I entered my bedroom, the sound of the water running in the en suite bathroom greeted me. I strode across the room, kicking my shoes off as I went. As I reached the window, I pulled open the curtains slightly to view the bright afternoon. I threw open the window, immediately feeling the warm summer breeze. It rustled through the hedges a story below, bringing some fresh air into my bedroom. The bathroom door creaked open.

 

“What are you doing?” Hermione asked, quietly striding behind me and placing her hands lightly on my hips.

 

“Enjoying the breeze,” I replied. I turned slowly to face her.

 

“I think we've enjoyed the breeze enough for today.”

 

A sly grin quirked at the corners of Hermione's mouth, making my reply catch in my throat.

 

“I really did miss you,” she continued in a near whisper. I placed my hands over hers at my waist as she slid them around to my back, pulling me closer.

 

“I really did miss you, too,” I muttered, dragging my fingers around her wrists and up to her elbows. She shivered almost imperceptibly at my touch and her eyes slid closed.

 

“Gin...” she whispered.

 

My hands slowly made their way up Hermione's shoulders and around the back of her neck, pulling her in for a hard kiss. She responded in kind, pulling me tightly against her as our mouths met again and again.

 

Hermione pulled her mouth from mine with a gasp, her dark eyes meeting mine briefly before she attached her lips to my pulse point. I sighed as her tongue swept my neck in lazy circles and she nibbled her way down to the collar of my shirt.

 

“Off...” she mumbled. I complied willingly, pulling away from her slightly to pull my shirt and bra over my head. When it was out of the way, I pressed myself against her once more and started to walk her toward my bed.

 

She sat on the edge of the bed as we reached it, quickly removing her own shirt and bra before working on the button of my jeans. When the pants were around my ankles, I pushed her back onto the bed, sliding her skirt down her smooth legs.

 

Hermione crawled back toward the pillows and I followed her on my hands and knees, stretching my body over hers. My hair fell around us like a curtain as I leaned down to kiss her again. I ran my hands down her sides as her tongue swirled against mine, making her arch up into my body. I moaned at the contact.

 

I had truly missed her touch in the month she had been gone.

 

Sweeping my hair to one side, I broke from Hermione's swollen lips and moved down to her collarbone. She gasped when I nibbled on the skin, blazing a trail to her full breasts. Her dusky pink nipples stood at attention, just begging to be in my mouth.

 

How could I resist?

 

Hermione's hand came to the back of my head when I took one nipple in my mouth, sucking gently. When I grazed my teeth across the sensitive peak, her fingers threaded through my hair, holding me in place. I lavished attention to my target, stopping only to serve the other side as well. Hermione gasped and writhed beneath me, hooking one of her feet around my knee.

 

“Gin,” she rasped when I came up for air. I glanced into her glazed eyes. “I'm so sorry to stop you, but it _has_ been a month.”

 

I smirked up at her, placing a quick kiss on the center of her chest before moving down her body. The lace band of her underwear slid easily down as I tugged the garment down and off of Hermione's body.

 

“Maybe I can speed it up,” I muttered, running my fingertips along the outside of her thighs. She shivered.

 

“Please do.”

 

Without another thought, I leaned down and placed a kiss on each of Hermione's hip bones. From there, I dragged my lips over her soft curls, finally finding a crease to explore with my tongue.

 

Hermione's hips rocked off the bed and into my face as I twirled my tongue into her folds and over her engorged clit. I sucked the sensitive nerve into my mouth and she rewarded me with a loud moan. Her fingers once again found my hair and she gently pushed me farther down. My tongue slipped easily through her wetness and I gathered as much as I could before moving to where I knew she wanted me most.

 

I pulled away for a moment, licking my lips and using my fingers to spread her folds to my gaze. Hermione rocked her hips once more, practically begging me to get back to work. I felt my own center ache when I leaned back in.

 

My tongue slipped quickly into her center, tasting every inch of her soft walls it could reach. Hermione moaned quietly about me and I pulled my tongue out, gathering more of her wetness.

 

I quickly moved back up to her clit, slowly sliding two fingers into her well-lubricated channel.

 

“Gin,” she moaned, her walls tight around my fingers.

 

I set a quick pace, pulling her clit back into my mouth. Her legs began to shake as I brought her closer and closer to the edge, flicking my tongue against her nerve and bending my fingers very slightly. Without warning, Hermione cried out loudly, arching off the bed and squeezing my fingers inside of her.

 

She gasped in air as she finally relaxed, coaxing me to pull my fingers from her and move back up her body. I settled beside her on the bed, pecking light kisses on her face as she panted into my neck.

 

“Ginny,” she finally said, pulling her face back. I glanced down at her.

 

“I love you.”

 

With that, Hermione pushed me back and rolled on top of me, planting a heated kiss on my lips and moaning at her own taste.

 

o-o-o-o

 

I tossed my robe around Hermione's shoulders and she chuckled lightly, sliding her arms into the sleeves. She pulled the lapels together so that I could tie the belt securely around her waist. Then, with another chuckle, Hermione spun out of my grasp and out of my bedroom door, leaving me standing dumbly in the middle of the room.

 

After a moment, I heard her rattling around in the kitchen and I smiled.

 

We must have worked up an appetite that couldn't wait for the Burrow.

 

Quickly, I tossed on a fresh t-shirt and panties and made my way down to the kitchen. Hermione pulled her head from the refrigerator and sighed dramatically.

 

“You're out of pumpkin juice.”

 

I laughed at the silly pout on her face.

 

“Hermione, it's right there behind the milk,” I said, pointing toward the refrigerator. She pulled out the bottle and quickly filled the two goblets on the counter.

 

Hermione picked up the goblets and turned to me, locking her eyes with mine. She padded toward me slowly, handing me a goblet with a tiny quirk of her lips.

 

“To business trips,” Hermione muttered, tilting her glass toward me for a toast.

 

“To business trips,” I repeated with a grin, tapping the edge of my goblet on hers with a pop.

 

 _A pop?_ I thought. _That's kind of odd..._

 

We raised our goblets to our lips and took a healthy sip of the juice.

 

“Hey, Gin, are you ready to head to--”

 

I started at the loud, deep voice that sounded from the living room, quickly moving into the kitchen. And when a figure appeared in the kitchen doorway and started to take in our less than modest appearance, I promptly spit my healthy sip of pumpkin juice all over Hermione.

 

However, instead of wheeling on me for getting her all sticky, Hermione turned paler than Nearly-Headless Nick and quickly stepped in front of me to cover my half-naked form. I, on the other hand, could feel my skin heating in a flush at the sudden appearance of my brother.

 

“What in Merlin's name is going on here?” Ron gasped out, his eyes wide and his face reddening just as quickly as mine.

 

I couldn't say a word.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to Hermione's POV here.

“What in Merlin's name is going on here?”

 

I had no idea that a person could actually feel their skin paling.

 

I mean, I knew that one could feel a flush. It felt like a rush of heat just under the surface of my cheeks in my experience. But paling... It was another feeling entirely. Like I'd just walked through a ghost.

 

Unfortunately, that was not the reason that I felt like my skin was rapidly cooling.

 

No, this was a completely different situation.

 

Ron Weasley, the man I had refused to marry and had not seen or talked to for almost six months, was standing in his sister's kitchen, gaping at my robe-clad form. His sister, who just happened to only be wearing a t-shirt and underwear, was shielded from view by my body. I believe I was too late in stepping in front of her for Ron not to notice her state of undress.

 

Oh, and the kicker of the whole situation... Ron's scantily-clothed sister just happened to be my girlfriend. And we just happened to have decided not to tell any of Ginny's family about our relationship in order to spare Ron's feelings.

 

I swallowed the gigantic lump in my throat as we all stood frozen, staring at each other.

 

For possibly the first time ever, Ginny did not seem to have a quick response to a question. I cut my gaze to her quickly, only to see that her cheeks and ears almost completely matched her hair in color. That one sign told me that I would probably have the lead for this issue.

 

“Ron,” I started, breaking my tense stance to set my goblet of on the counter and shake some of Ginny's pumpkin juice off of my hand. Ron and Ginny still hadn't moved. I took a breath to try to explain when Ginny suddenly snapped back to reality. She placed her hand on my upper arm and gently pushed me to the side, taking a small step toward Ron and squaring her shoulders.

 

“I don't see how that's any of your business,” Ginny said sternly, Weasley-blush still firmly in place. Ron's eyes widened further, which I hardly thought possible at that point.

 

“None of _my_ business?” Ron griped. “You're naked in the kitchen with my... Friend.”

 

_Ah,_ I thought.  _Just as I feared._

 

There was a reason that I hadn't spoken with Ron since our awful breakup. It was a fact that it was easier to get over problems when you weren't presented with them regularly; Ron already had a hard enough time getting over things on his own without seeing me almost daily.

 

“I am not naked,” Ginny fired off, her blush deepening. “I am wearing clothes.”

 

“Not enough of them!”

 

“What does it matter how many clothes I wear in my own house? And who are you to Apparate in here without owling first?” Ginny tactfully changed the subject, hoping to distract Ron from our clothing situation. She was a woman after my own heart.

 

“You didn't seem to mind much any other time I've popped in!”

 

“Well, I didn't have a girlfriend then!” Ginny winced as soon as she realized what she had said. She had artfully steered the conversation from one touchy subject to another in only three sentences.

 

I sighed and closed my eyes, knowing full well what would be next.

 

“You've had plenty of girlfriends before and-- GIRLFRIEND?”

 

There it was.

 

I opened my eyes to see Ron's eyes as large as saucers, practically bugging out of his skull. With a glance to Ginny, I saw her in a similar predicament.

 

And then Ron turned to me.

 

“What does she mean, 'girlfriend'?” he demanded. I swallowed the new lump that had suddenly formed in my throat.

 

“Well--” I sputtered.

 

“And when were you going to tell me?”

 

“Ron, we only--”

 

“Am I the only one who doesn't know?”

 

Ron took a step toward me, looking much too angry for me to be comfortable having in my personal space. Ginny noticed and quickly stepped in front of me.

 

“No. We haven't told anyone except Harry,” Ginny stated in a calm voice. I immediately saw the hurt flash through Ron's eyes.

 

“You'll tell Harry, but you won't tell me,” he muttered, glancing at me and then dropping his gaze to the floor. “That's not even...”

 

“Ron, you have to understand,” I started, moving Ginny over a step to reassure Ron. “We didn't tell anyone so that you would have plenty of time to come to terms with how you and I left off.”

 

“'Come to terms?!'” he seethed. “Come to _terms_ with how you left me for my sister?”

 

“I did not leave you for your sister!” I cried, refusing to meet Ginny's eyes and be caught in my half-truth. But I knew she was giving me a look.

 

“Bollocks!” Ron ran his hands through his hair and turned around stiffly. Once his hands dropped from his head, silence filled the room.

 

I glanced at Ginny. She was looking at me with an odd expression. I sighed.

 

“Ron--”

 

“You know what?” he muttered, holding up a hand to silence me. “I'll just go. See you at the Burrow.”

 

Without another word, Ron turned on the spot. Just before he disappeared with the standard _pop_ , I caught sight of his facial expression.

 

I felt my skin pale for the second time.

 

The kitchen was silent as I waited for any kind of reaction from Ginny. She opened her mouth to speak, though no words came out.

 

“What?” I asked, the shock of Ron's visit still fresh.

 

“That was not awkward at all,” Ginny muttered finally, sighing out a humorless laugh.

 

“No... But I think we should get dressed. He looked ready to ransack villages or something.”

 

This time Ginny's giggle was genuine. We turned and started up the stairs to Ginny's bedroom.

 

“You're probably right. It's kind of weird that he decided to turn up on this particular day. He hasn't been to my house since Boxing Day,” she revealed, pulling her shirt over her head on the way to her closet.

 

“He probably found out I was home today and wanted to get some information from you, I suppose.” I collected my clothes from the floor and pulled them on, tossing Ginny's robe onto the bed.

 

“My mum never could contain her excitement when one of us came home,” Ginny muttered, returning from her closet fully dressed. She sat on the bed to pull on her sneakers. “I swear, that is where he gets his flair for gossip from...”

 

I hummed in agreement. In our Hogwarts days, Ron always seemed to know something about someone and wasn't always shy about letting others know. He truly did love gossip almost as much as his mother.

 

My brow furrowed and I froze in the middle of running my fingers through my particularly bushy hair as a terrible thought occurred to me.

 

“Ginny.” She looked up at my flat tone of voice, confusion marring her features.

 

“Where do you think Ron Apparated to?” I asked cautiously, pulling my hand from my head slowly. I watched her expression as she worked it out. Finally, understanding dawned on her face and she stood quickly.

 

“You don't think--”

 

“I do.”

 

Ginny's eyes widened.

 

“Fuck.”

 

o-o-o-o

 

“And I told them that it was the newt's eye!”

 

Raucous laughter sounded from the den as I opened the back door of the Burrow and entered the kitchen. Ginny followed me, shutting the door behind us. Before I could make another move, I was pulled into a tight hug.

 

“Oh, girls, you're here! Good, good.”

 

Molly Weasley released me from her arms and moved on to her daughter. I met Ginny's eyes, watching the relief pass through them. If the greeting was any indication, it appeared that our secret was still safe. The real test would be seeing how long the safety would last.

 

“Welcome back, Hermione!” Mrs. Weasley said, letting go of Ginny and moving back to the stove. “Oh, I can't wait to hear about your trip. I'll bet you met plenty of interesting people.”

 

“Oh, definitely,” I replied confidently, gesturing toward the den while Mrs. Weasley's back was turned. Ginny got the message and left the kitchen in search of her brother.

 

“Do you need any help with anything?”

 

Mrs. Weasley turned around and lifted an eyebrow at me.

 

“This is your party and you're asking if you can help me with anything?”

 

I shrugged. Mrs. Weasley shooed me off with a good-natured scowl and I made my way into the den.

 

“There she is!” George yelled, immediately wrapping an arm around my shoulders and dragging me into the middle of the group of Weasleys. Bill laughed at George's antics while he ruffled my hair.

 

“Good to see you, Hermione,” Percy said, reaching out to shake my hand.

 

“Likewise.” We shook firmly before I glanced around the room. There was no sign of Ron.

 

Then again, how would I be able to tell in the sea of ginger that I was stuck in?

 

“How was the trip?” Bill asked.

 

“It was wonderful!” I spotted Ginny coming from the staircase. She caught my eye and shook her head. I turned back to Bill. “You haven't seen Ron, have you?”

 

“No, he hasn't shown yet. He'll probably arrive just in time for the food.” Bill laughed and clapped me on the shoulder. I smiled at him.

 

“Oy, Harry!”

 

Ginny made it to my side just as Harry and his new “girl of the month” were engulfed in the Weasley sea. The booming laughter almost drowned out Ginny's voice as she caught my attention.

 

“Did we go to school with this one?” she asked, arching her eyebrow at the vaguely familiar brunette woman on Harry's arm.

 

“You would think we would remember these girls if we had.”

 

“Gin,” Harry said as he finally made it over to us and pulled Ginny into a quick hug. “And Hermione! Welcome back!”

 

I laughed as Harry embraced me tightly. He seemed extremely happy about something and I didn't think it was my return; I had only been gone for a month, after all.

 

“Hey, Harry. Who's this?” I asked cheerfully.

 

“All in due time, I promise.”

 

With a smirk, Harry and his mystery girl moved along toward the kitchen where Mr. Weasley was getting some drinks together.

 

“Harry!” he exclaimed, clapping the man on the back jovially. “Good to see you!”

 

“Has anyone seen Ron?” Mrs. Weasley called from the doorway to the kitchen.

 

“I'm here!”

 

Ginny and I turned to the fireplace to see a soot-covered Ron coughing as he righted his balance. Bill chuckled and I couldn't help but smile, though my stomach immediately knotted anxiously.

 

“Wonderful! Dinner's ready!”

 

o-o-o-o

 

“Stop hogging all the bread,” Geroge snarled, pulling the tray from Ron. I glanced to Ginny again.

 

So far, dinner had been peaceful. We had no idea where Ron had gone before he arrived at the Burrow, but he seemed normal. Except for the wary glances he shot our way, it was like nothing had changed. He was chatting with his family and eating as he usually did.

 

For some reason, the normality of the situation made me much more nervous.

 

“I thought we'd grown past the part where we fought over food,” Mr. Weasley scolded, snatching the tray of bread from George and setting it on the other side of the table.

 

“But dad, he was--”

 

“No buts. We're all adults here.”

 

“I don't know about that, dad,” Bill scoffed, triggering a few chuckles from around the table.

 

I looked across to Harry and his silent date.

 

“So, Harry, how've you been the last month?” I asked, trying to shake the anxiety that had settled in my stomach.

 

“I've been alright. I worked a bit on that goblin regulation you sent me, but otherwise, nothing really interesting happened.”

 

I nodded along as Ginny placed a hand on my upper arm. As I turned to find out what she wanted, she squeezed. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ron raise his hands to quiet the table.

 

“Speaking of _interesting things_ ,” he began, his words slurring slightly, “I think Hermione and Ginny have something they'd like to tell everyone.”

 

The entire family was silent as they all turned to stare at us. I could feel the heat radiating from Ginny's flushed face and my mouth dropped open in surprise.

 

“Ah... We... What?” Ginny sputtered beside me, her hand attempting to practically sever my upper arm from the rest of my body.

 

“Actually...”

 

My head turned so fast that I felt a sharp pain in my neck. I ignored it, however, and focused my attention on the speaker.

 

“I think I have something I'd like to announce first,” Harry stated, taking his seemingly-mute date by the hand and standing.

 

He caught my eyes for a brief second and I could see the panic in them. He was trying to stall and pull attention from Ginny and I to himself. I was wondering what he was going to try to do.

 

As I glanced around the table, I saw that he had been successful in diverting everyone's attention. However, Molly Weasley was still staring straight through me.

 

“I've been kind of secretive about my personal life lately, as you all know,” Harry began, fidgeting slightly. “And I wanted to take this opportunity to let you all know before you hear it from anywhere else.”

 

He paused, glancing at his girlfriend. She smiled encouragingly at him and he took a deep breath.

 

“I'd like for you all to meet my fiance,” he said proudly, albeit nervously.

 

“Luna Lovegood.”

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to Ginny's POV in this one.

_"I'd like for you all to meet my fiance... Luna Lovegood.”_

 

It had to be a crime to be this completely baffled twice in as many minutes.

 

First, Ron puts us on the spot to tell the whole family our big secret. To be honest, the only reason we hadn't told anyone else was that we didn't want him to find out before he was ready. I couldn't care less what my family thought of my relationship with Hermione; what I cared about was the scene that my closest brother would inevitably cause when he found out. And another thing: Why didn't he just out us himself?

 

On top of that perfectly confusing bit of mess, we have Harry Potter making the announcement of his engagement to Luna Lovegood. I found myself speechless for possibly the  _third_ time today that wasn't for an extremely pleasurable reason.   


The brunette woman standing next to Harry was definitely NOT Luna.

 

Just as I was reaching that obvious conclusion, I glanced at the woman grasping tightly to Harry's hand. Before my very eyes, the air around her shifted and her brown-headed body materialized into something else entirely.

 

Like one of those decorative Muggle waterfalls, a completely different, completely familiar person trickled over the form of Harry's vaguely-familiar “girl of the month”.

 

Luna Lovegood.

 

The silence around the table was deafening. I glanced at Hermione, watching as the realization washed clearly over her features. It was obvious that she was connecting dots that none of us had even noticed.

 

“Clever,” she muttered, though it sounded much louder at the mute dinner table. Harry's ears were turning red. I gaped at him.

 

Finally, my mother broke the rather comical stupor, the penetrating stare she'd aimed at Hermione long forgotten.

 

“Well, that's wonderful, dear!” Mum yelped, leaping from her chair and throwing her arms around Harry's shoulders.

 

The poor man patted her back gently, stunned. Luna merely giggled. Mum pulled away from Harry, kissing his cheek, before hugging Luna as well. The rest of the table finally woke up, breaking into cheers and laughter as Mum returned to her seat. Luna's slightly dazed expression was a stark contrast to Harry's dangerously red cheeks and ears.

 

“Good job, Harry,” George said, clapping Harry on the back when he sat back down.

 

“Tell us how it happened, then,” Bill challenged, sipping his firewhiskey. Mum made a squeak of agreement.

 

“Yes, how did the two of you meet?” Dad asked. I scoffed.

 

“Dad, Luna was in my year at Hogwarts, remember?” He nodded at me thoughtfully.

 

“If my memory serves, Harry was dating _you_ at the time.” My brothers snickered at that. “I'm wondering how they ended up together.”

 

The scraping of silverware on plates resumed as the family continued the meal. I glanced at Hermione; though she'd likely figured out the magic behind Luna's concealment, she looked a little hurt.

 

“Yes. And how on Earth did you manage to keep it a secret from _me_?” she inquired pointedly, drawing another laugh from my brothers. After all this time, they were all well aware of her attention to detail.

 

Harry cleared his throat, knowing the double meaning of her question. He was in for it later for keeping this from us.

 

“Well... Er...” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, looking to Luna for help. “Maybe you should tell this part. It's kind of a long story.”

 

“I was researching nargles last Christmas. Harry helped me,” Luna said plainly. I raised an eyebrow.

 

“Apparently, it wasn't that long,” I muttered just loudly enough for Harry to hear. He reddened again.

 

“It was a little more complicated than that,” he backtracked, taking over from Luna.

 

“Do tell,” Mum chimed, staring at Harry expectantly.

 

He took a deep breath and glanced at Luna. She seemed completely disinterested.

 

“Luna and I ran into each other at the Ministry a couple months before Christmas,” he said. “I was on my way to a meeting with the head of the Department for International Magical Cooperation and she literally slammed into me going about a thousand times faster than my Firebolt.”

 

“That's an exaggeration,” Luna cut in, idly running her finger around the rim of her goblet of pumpkin juice. Her airy tone didn't quite match her words. “The Leggings of Longsuffering Liveliness only increased my walking speed by fourteen percent.”

 

“Right,” George said seriously, his eyes betraying his mirth.

 

“Yes. Well...” Harry cleared his throat again. “Regardless, she knocked me cleanly off my feet. After I got my bearings back, we agreed to have lunch later in the week. It had been a while since we'd seen each other. During lunch, she told me about her latest project: finding out more about the elusive nargles. She asked me if I would be interested in helping. I agreed.”

 

“So, did you find any nargles?” Dad asked, entirely engrossed in the conversation.

 

“We did,” Harry replied. “I didn't think they were real, but I was wrong. We hit every single Christmas party that we could get an invitation to, which turned out to be a lot.”

 

“I would imagine that your name helped a bit,” Hermione said.

 

“Quite.” Harry paused to take a sip of his own juice. “We had a few unsuccessful attempts at digging through the mistletoe before we discovered the proper way to make a nargle show itself.”

 

“Wait,” I said, holding my hand out to stop Harry's story. I turned to his starry-eyed fiance. “Luna, I thought you'd seen nargles before.”

 

“I hadn't actually seen a nargle until the first night I kissed Harry,” Luna breathed whimsically, her eyes meeting mine briefly. “They'd only stolen from me before.”

 

Mum looked ready to burst with joy at the mention of Harry and Luna's first kiss.

 

“Anyway... I suppose the nargle thought we were too distracted by snogging to notice him drop from the bundle of mistletoe and try to knick Luna's new emerald earrings.”

 

“Oh, did you buy them for her?” Mum asked excitedly.

 

“My father suggested I buy something sentimental so the nargles would be more likely to want to take it,” Luna said. “Harry's eyes remind me of the feathers of a majestic desert peacock. The closest thing I could find was an emerald.”

 

Mum's slight confusion didn't mar her appreciation for romance.

 

“She could've just said they reminded her of emeralds,” Bill whispered to George. He was less successful at hiding his smirk than I was. Harry plowed on.

 

“So, the nargle tried to take her earrings, but we caught him before he could lay a finger on them. Or a stub, I suppose.”

 

“Yes. Nargles aren't exactly big with the phalanges,” Luna muttered.

 

“Luna took it back to her office to study it and her boss was impressed. Apparently, my name also makes the capturing of a previously-mythical creature much more believable, even if that creature is in a tank a few meters from you,” Harry groused, his chagrin evident. “He wanted more specimens so other researchers could take a look. So, we continued to capture them. By the time we arrived here for the Christmas party, we had caught about fifteen nargles and detained them at the Department of Mysteries.”

 

Luna smiled gently and looked up at Harry.  
  


“I suppose Harry's manners got the better of him and he asked me on a proper date on Christmas Eve. We have been together ever since,” she said, smiling brightly. “I proposed to him a week ago at our favorite Muggle cafe.”

 

“That's so wonderful, Harry!” Mum gushed, positively beaming with joy. George and Bill even conceded that it was a cute story.

 

“I'm proud of you, Harry,” Dad said, grinning slightly at the happy couple. “It's a good time for you to settle down.”

 

“I just have one question,” Hermione stated. “Why did you use a disillusionment charm for so long?”

 

“Well, it wasn't that we were trying to keep it a secret--” Harry was quickly cut off by is fiance.

 

“It started out as a precaution at the parties,” Luna began. “There would simply have been too much attention drawn to Harry if he showed up at several get-togethers with the same girl and didn't answer any questions about her. And it's not a disillusionment charm. It's sort of a glamour of my own design.”

 

Hermione looked suitably impressed. I had to admit that I was as well.

 

“That makes sense... But why continue it using it after?”

 

“At first, I forgot it was still on. Harry was the Secret Keeper for the charm, so he could still see me as myself. He didn't notice that I hadn't lifted it either.” Luna smiled dreamily. “My boss at the Department of Mysteries sure had a scare when I walked in from Christmas break looking like a total stranger.”

 

Harry grinned proudly.

 

“After he tried to hex her, she lifted it. But, he liked the spell so much that he asked her to put it back on so he could study it.”

 

“Astonishing!” Dad exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “I love new spells.”

 

“Me too,” added Bill, leaning toward Luna. “Do you think you could teach it to me? It could be useful in my line of work.”

 

“It will likely become a standard concealment spell for aurors by the end of the summer,” Luna said. “But, as I'm taking mine off after this weekend, I don't see why I can't give you a lead on the others.”

 

“Brilliant!”

 

The entire table went silent as Ron spoke for the first time in nearly twenty minutes.

 

“Bloody fucking brilliant,” Ron repeated gruffly. At Hermione's gasp, I chanced a glance down the table at Ron's seat.

 

He was an unhealthy shade of crimson, bordering quickly on purple. I took in a sharp breath when I noticed the empty glass of firewhiskey vibrating in Ron's trembling hand.

 

“What's wrong, Ron?” Dad asked, completely unaware of the tension radiating off of his son in waves.

 

“I'm so glad that someone finally recognizes my feelings,” Ron spat, standing from his chair angrily.

 

“First Hermione and now Harry? Am I not good enough to be let in on the good secrets these days? Poor Ronnie, can't get over Hermione dumping him and isn't fit to hear how happy everyone else is?”

 

“Ron,” Harry began, frantically trying to defuse the situation. “I kept this a secret from _everyone_.”

 

Ron's gaze pinned Harry to his seat.

 

“I'll bet you told your _best friend_ , Hermione, didn't you? After all, one secret relationship begets another,” Ron snarked. He stared right at Hermione as if she was the reason there was evil in the world. Harry merely shook his head at Ron.

 

“Ron, I didn't tell anyone.”

 

“That makes no sense, Ronald. What are you talking about?” Mum was genuinely confused by Ron's behavior.

 

“I'm TALKING about how I proposed to Hermione and she refused me for my own flesh and blood.” Ron was on a rampage, his voice growing slightly louder with each word. “Did you know, Mum, that Hermione's shagging GINNY currently? And that HARRY knew about it before I did?”

 

Silence fell over the dinner table once more as Hermione stiffened next to me. I avoided my mother's eyes and sighed, preparing to plead my case. Just as I opened my mouth, Mum jumped in.

 

“Ron, of course Ginny and Hermione are together. They haven't exactly kept it a secret.”

 

My jaw dropped to my chest and I turned to look at Hermione. She was equally confounded. We hadn't been that obvious, had we?

 

“Come off it, Ginny,” Mum said, rolling her eyes at my shock. My head snapped round to face her. “You weren't obvious, but a mother knows these things. You started a countdown for Hermione's return last Thursday, for Merlin's sake.”

 

My cheeks rapidly reddened. I tried my best not to turn back to Hermione, knowing that she had some kind of smirk on her face. Mum was telling the truth; I had drawn a chart and everything.

 

It was my turn to clear my throat.

 

“A countdown?” Hermione asked, finally catching my eye. I shrugged a little, reddening further when I heard Bill and George's snickers from across the table.

 

“I--”

 

“And anyway,” Mum continued smoothly, saving me my embarrassment, “Harry and Hermione have the right to keep their love lives private if they want. It's a nice surprise to finally know who is putting the smile on their faces. And frankly, I'm happy that Hermione chose a Weasley at all. With her looks, she could have anyone.”

 

Ron paled as Hermione blushed.

 

“But Mum, she _left me_ for my _sister_!”

 

“I would have left you if you'd said some of those things to me, as well, son,” Dad muttered, leveling his gaze at Ron seriously. I cocked an eyebrow at the absurdity of that statement. “You weren't necessarily quiet at the Christmas party.”

 

“He's right, Ron,” Percy said, surprising us all by speaking up. “After the things you said, you really don't have the right to judge Hermione for who she chooses to be with.”

 

I couldn't hold in my triumphant grin as Ron was put in his place by almost every member of the family. He could see that his battle was nearly lost.

 

“But--”

 

“Ron, I think you should quit while you're ahead,” Bill said with a sad smile.

 

Ron plopped back into his chair, defeated. My brow furrowed as I watched his face change from shock to sorrow. Even if we were at odds because of our attraction to the same witch, he was still my brother and I was still concerned.

 

“Excuse me,” Ron muttered quietly, standing from his chair in a daze. He turned and fled from the room, his footfalls heavy on the stairs. I looked around the table at my family.

 

“We really are happy for you, Harry,” Dad said, breaking the uneasiness that had quickly settled over the table. “And you as well, Hermione and Ginny.”

 

My eyes met my father's over the table.

 

“Just make sure you take care of her,” he said.

 

“I will,” Hermione and I replied in unison. She glanced shyly at me and threaded our fingers together on the table.

 

With a sigh, I looked back to the doorway, my worry for Ron subduing the happiness I felt at being accepted by my family.

 

“Go to him,” Hermione whispered. Harry caught my eye and nodded encouragingly.

 

I stood from my seat quickly, taking a deep breath. My hand shot out of its own accord and grasped Bill's glass of firewhiskey. It burned my throat as I quickly shot the alcohol down.

 

Steeling myself, I headed for the stairs and my brother.

 

 

 

 

 

*Funt facts: The Leggings of Longsuffering Liveliness are the creation of a wizard within the Department of Mysteries. They gradually increase the walking speed of the wearer 14% over the course of three years if worn continuously. Luna was testing them as a favor to her colleague, but wasn't able to wear them for the full three years due to her relationship with Harry. When she took them off, she had been wearing them for only four weeks. After a vigorous cleaning, she returned them to the wizard and informed him that he should work on the “continuous wear” part of the enchantment. It is currently still a work in progress.

 


	12. Chapter 12

 

I hurtled up the stairs as quietly as possible, trying not to alert my brother that I was coming. If he heard me, I was sure he would summon a broomstick and take off out of his window into the night.

 

That would definitely not resolve things.

 

Ron and I had always been close, ever since we were young. We were the closest in age after Fred and George and were usually lumped together as the youngest. Our other brothers were fiercely protective of me, being that I was the only girl, but Ron usually treated me like I could take care of myself.

 

Which I could, thank you very much.

 

Once I'd started at Hogwarts, Ron was a little more overbearing. I suppose he thought that he would have to protect me because we were the closest. Soon, however, he learned that I really could hold my own in a crowd. We grew apart as we each made new friends in our own years and he began to take a more active role in Harry's run-ins with Voldemort.

 

By the time the war was over, we hardly saw each other outside of family dinners, though he often came to my games. Occasionally, he would pop into my house so that we could go to the Burrow together.

 

I was the first person he ever told that he was anywhere near interested in marrying Hermione. I'd felt a pang of jealousy, but I honestly didn't think that he would get up the nerve to do it.

 

Then, before he could even ask, Hermione broke it off with him. She told me much later that he had complained one too many times about her work schedule and her thirst for knowledge. I couldn't blame Ron for wanting a wife that would support him by running the household. Merlin, look at our mum. But, no matter how great Hermione was at housework and cooking, it was not something that required much thought. She was so brilliant that it would practically be a crime to hold her back from her studies. And who knows where the Ministry would have been today had she not joined up almost immediately after finishing her NEWTs?

 

Nowhere. That's where.

 

As I reached Ron's door, I took a steadying breath and lifted my hand to knock.

 

“Come in, Gin,” he muttered sullenly after I rapped the door a few times.

 

Steeling myself, I pushed the door open gently and entered. The door shut behind me with a soft click.

 

“Come to tell me off for calling you two out at dinner, have you?” Ron groused from his seat on the bed. I sighed and opened my mouth to reply.

 

“No, really,” he continued, cutting off my words, “I would understand. It _was_ kind of a git move.”

 

“Ron--”  
  


“And honestly, do I even deserve an explanation?” He just stared at the floor dejectedly.

 

“Ron, stop it!” I pleaded, trying to end his wallowing. “None of this has anything to do with you.”

 

“Obviously. Since no one bothered to tell me.”

 

“What do you want me to say?” I hissed. It was getting more and more difficult not to tun the conversation into a row and we'd only made it a few sentences. “You want me to tell you that we planned it all together? 'Hey, Harry, how about we decide not to tell Ron about our relationships so he can feel left out!'”

 

“An admission would be nice,” he shot back sardonically, finally meeting my eyes. He stood from his bed angrily. “Do you know how much it hurts to find out that your best friends and you sister, people that you've experienced life-or-death situations with, are keeping something as important as the people that they love a secret from you?”

 

“I might have experience with that. I seem to remember a certain trio of potential seventh-years making the decision to skip town after Bill's wedding and keeping it a secret from everyone.”

 

“That's not the same,” he muttered, staring at the floor again.

 

“It's not?” I challenged, crossing my arms over my chest. “Please enlighten me.”

 

“That was different. We had to hunt for Voldemort's horcruxes before he made his move on all of Europe. You wouldn't have been able to handle it and you were safer at Hogwarts anyway.” He said it like their reasoning should have been obvious.

 

“You were safer not knowing,” I said, finally catching his eye and using the same tone he had just taken with me. “You wouldn't have been able to handle it.”

 

“You think so?” he spat, his ears reddening quickly.

 

“I know so, Ron! Have you _met_ yourself?” I paced the small space in front of his bedroom door, ticking items off on my fingers as I listed them. “If Hermione and I had told you we were in a relationship, you would have flipped your lid, probably run away to a pub. After that, you'd have shown up at the Burrow sodding drunk, making all kinds of off-hand remarks about how I 'stole your woman'. And WHO KNOWS what you could have said to the journalists that would undoubtedly have found you curled up with a nice glass of firewhiskey anytime after five o'clock.” My pacing halted and I pointed a finger straight at my brother's chest. “You _wouldn't_ have been able to handle it. This is a fact.”

 

He was silent for a very long moment, the angry flush draining from his cheeks and ears as his shoulders slumped. Sitting heavily back on the edge of his bed, he finally spoke.

 

“How about the next time something this huge happens, you let _me_ decide what I can and cannot handle?” he asked quietly, looking me directly in the eyes. “Did you ever think that maybe I wouldn't have reacted that way? That perhaps I had a little bit of sense?”

 

“Ron-”

 

“No, let me finish,” he interjected. “Maybe I would have overreacted a little. Or maybe I wouldn't have been all that surprised. Did you ever think that it might have helped me get over my feelings for Hermione if I had know that she was pretty much off-limits?”

 

I was dumbstruck. It had never occurred to me that my brother could be a rational human being sometimes. All the fight left me as he let out a shallow breath before speaking again.

 

“Ginny, when you fled your own house on Boxing Day after I tried to win Hermione back, I was confused. I didn't understand why you would be so offended by us kissing. And then Hermione started bawling and aimed her wand at me and ran me off.” He ran his large hand through his hair. “If I'm completely honest with myself, I knew then that I had no chance.”

 

He held my gaze steadily, his blue eyes sad. I felt my own eyes water.

 

“I knew then,” he continued, “that maybe my nagging about her working too much wasn't the only reason she ended our relationship last year.”

 

It was the truth. Hermione had told me that her feelings for me had changed steadily over the years since the war. She hadn't been happy with Ron for a long time, but she stuck it out until she was completely sure she couldn't continue to lie to herself or my brother.

 

“But if you knew then, why did you react the way you did at my house this evening?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

 

“Because I didn't want to believe that the woman I thought was the love of my life could leave me for my sister.”

 

“She didn't leave you for me.”

 

“Now that it's out in the open, it kinda feels like she did,” he muttered. “Not going to lie.”

 

“The only reason we slept together on Christmas night is because I was drunk and she was distraught.”

 

Ron paled.

 

“You slept together the night before I proposed to her,” he breathed disbelievingly. It wasn't a question.

 

_Open mouth. Insert foot._

 

“Uh... We...” I sighed. There was no way to make that little slip go away.

 

“Maybe it's better you didn't tell me right then. I might have hexed you. And we all know how awful _that_ could've been.”

 

Ron smiled weakly at me, obviously trying to lighten the tension a little. I smirked humorlessly.

 

“Look, I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner,” I offered, moving to Ron's bed and sitting next to him.

 

Ron took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

 

“I guess I can't blame you for Harry's secrets, though,” he said after a moment, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

 

“No,” I agreed, reeling from the sudden subject change. “That was very much a shock to everyone.”

 

“I'm still amazed he managed to keep it from Hermione for so long.” This time our smiles were genuine.

 

“I would never have pictured the two of them together in a million years. At the same time, it's not all that surprising,” I mused. Ron hummed in response.

 

“I know the feeling,” he said, not meeting my eyes. “But, I do think they moved a little quickly with the engagement.”

 

“Well, Harry and Luna _have_ known each other for years. And I guess when you've fought on the front lines of a wizarding war, you realize just how quickly things can be lost. You have to make the best of it while you have the time.”

 

Ron grimaced, but I couldn't find it in myself to regret those words. He took a deep breath.

 

“I s'pose that I felt safe and comfortable with Hermione,” he said, leaning back on his arms. “Getting together just seemed like the right thing to do. I've known her since I was eleven years old and she's never been one for sitting back and keeping a home while someone else is the breadwinner. She's too smart and too ambitious to be cooped up like that and it was wrong of me to expect that of her. So, maybe the reason I didn't act sooner is because I knew it wasn't meant to be.”

 

We lapsed into silence, Ron working through his thoughts while I examined my own.

 

The last six months with Hermione had been amazing. We had discovered together that what we felt for each other was more than just an old Hogwarts crush. The moment I knew I could call her mine was one of the happiest moments of my life. I knew I loved Hermione with everything I had and that I would give it all up just to be with her forever. But what I had said to Ron just moments ago was right; we had no idea if we would make it to forever for whatever reason. We had to make the best of the time we had together.

 

Ron broke the silence with a heavy sigh, sitting up straight once more.

 

“Thanks for coming up to talk to me. I guess Harry will be next,” he joked. I grinned and stood up.

 

“Probably so.” I shoved my hands into the pockets of my jeans. “And I really am sorry about all this. You're right to be mad.”

 

“Well, I didn't exactly act like an adult either,” he mumbled, standing to his full height and leveling his gaze at me. “But I'll forgive you on one condition.”

 

“What's that?” I asked, cocking my head to the side slightly. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed.

 

“Make her happy.”

 

I could only nod.

 

 

o-o-o-o

 

 

Harry stood quickly as I made my way into the den.

 

“Did you soften him up?” he asked, grimacing at the thought of the coming conversation with my brother.

 

“I softened him enough for my problems. You're pretty much on your own,” I replied with a smirk. Harry frowned.

 

“I thought you were on my side!”

 

“Consider this your payback for keeping this from us,” Hermione offered from her chair beside the fireplace. I nodded in agreement and Harry made his way to the stairs, sighing in exasperation.

 

Luna looked up from the game of Wizard's Chess that she was winning against a very perturbed Percy.

 

“I hope Ron isn't too angry with Harry. It wasn't completely his decision to keep it a secret,” she said quietly. “Check.”

 

Percy sighed heavily.

 

“It's not like I left him a smoldering volcano or anything. He was pretty docile.”

 

“That's quite a feat for Ron,” George joked, sipping his tea. I smirked.

 

Walking toward Hermione's chair, I took a quick glance around the room.

 

“Bill leave?” I asked, noting his absence.

 

“Fleur called. She had another _craving_ ,” Mum answered emphatically.

 

We had learned something about veela since Fleur joined the family. Apparently, when they were pregnant, they had much baser cravings than pregnant Muggles or witches. I would have been slightly jealous that my brother had to _endure_ such “cravings” rather frequently if it weren't for the fact that my own girlfriend had cleared her entire afternoon schedule for that specific purpose.

 

“Poor bloke,” George muttered. Dad laughed.

 

“Well, I think I'm off as well,” Hermione said, standing from her chair. “I've got an early meeting with Shacklebolt in the morning.”

 

“Didn't you two hammer out all the details this morning?” Dad asked.

 

“No, he mainly wanted to hear about the status of the other ministires. He gave me the rest of the day to prepare my presentation for him tomorrow, but I've had that finished since Saturday.”

 

I smiled proudly. Of course she had finished her presentation as soon as all the political business was finished.

 

“Well, it was wonderful to see you, dear,” Mum said, standing to give Hermione a quick hug. She turned to me. “And Ginny, I expect to hear about you next game in great detail when we get back from Romania.”

 

“Of course, Mum. I'll even have Hermione videotape it if you want.” Mum's face pinched in confusion.

 

“Video-what, dear?”

 

“Nevermind,” Hermione and I said in unison. George snickered from his chair and I smiled.

 

“Be safe visiting Charlie,” I said, taking Hermione's hand in my own and leading us to the fire.

 

Hermione took a handful of floo powder and tossed it into the flames. She waved quickly at the family and we stepped into the fire.

 

 

o-o-o-o

 

 

“It wasn't nearly as awful as I expected it to be,” Hermione said, striding purposefully into my en suite bathroom.

 

“It definitely could have been worse,” I agreed.

 

I made my way to the window and quickly closed the curtains. Then, I turned down the sheets on the bed. When I moved to my closet to change, I noticed my bag hanging on its hook by the door.

 

In the excitement of the evening, I had forgotten the bracelet that I bought for Hermione in the Muggle antique shop.

 

“I think I'm going to take a quick shower, Gin,” Hermione called from the bathroom. A few seconds later, the shower started running. I glanced to the en suite, satisfied that Hermione would be busy for a short while.

 

I quickly pulled the small square box out of my bag and held it in front of me as I sat down on my bed.

 

My talk with Ron solved a few problems. There were still many things that we all had to work on to make it right, but it was a relief to know that everyone was in on our secret. It was also amazing to know that my entire family supported us regardless of who we chose to love. That much was obvious in the way they didn't even question Hermione and I leaving together.

 

Hermione and Ron would have to talk in their own time and privately. When that happened, pretty much everything would be sorted. Ron could move on with his life and take in all the happiness he could get.

 

My own words from earlier echoed in my ears as I stared at the decorative box.

 

“ _And I guess when you've fought on the front lines of a wizarding war, you realize just how quickly things can be lost. You have to make the best of it while you have the time.”_

 

It was the honest truth. We had gained a lot in the war, but we also took heavy, jarring losses. Fred was gone, as were Lupin, Tonks, Sirius, and Dumbledore. And though four years had passed since that final battle, there were still death eaters out there just waiting to take on the Golden Trio and anyone else that got in their way. We had been very lucky to have seen little of that action lately, but that didn't mean it wasn't still a serious threat. No matter how hard Harry and Ron worked at tracking them down, there might always be one that managed to slip by.

 

When we were younger, Bill talked about how he wanted to wait to start a family. He would rather get his fill of adventuring before giving it up for a wife and kids. The war changed him enough that he married Fleur and started a family as soon as he could.

 

Then there was George. He thought we didn't know that he and Angelina had been dancing around one another for years. I caught on quickly that they were clinging to each other in their grief, at least at first. Now, they seemed to be getting closer and closer. It had surprised me that Angelina hadn't come to dinner at the Burrow as she had the last few times.

 

And now, Harry had found a match in Luna. Though our time together was great, Harry and I knew we weren't right for each other. It made me happy to know that he had found the person that was right for him. He and Luna got engaged rather quickly, but that made sense to me. They were making the best of their time together.

 

I knew I loved Hermione Granger; there was no way around it. She and I danced around each other for a while as well. Now that we were together and slowly starting a life, I knew there was no place I would rather be for the rest of my days, however long or short they may be.

 

“What's that?”

 

I started with a yelp, my head snapping toward the doorway of the en suite to see Hermione looking a little embarrassed with a towel wrapped around her body. Her wet locks flowed over her shoulders in giant, unruly waves. The dark brown of her eyes sparkled in the dim light of my bedroom, her skin slightly flushed from the warmth of her shower.

 

I made my decision.

 

“Sorry for scaring you,” she muttered, tightening her towel as she sat next to me on my bed. She nodded to the box in my hands. “What do you have there?”

 

I swallowed hard.

 

“Hermione,” I croaked out, trying to put my thoughts into words.

 

Her eyebrows pinched in concern and she shifted her body to face me fully, laying a hand gently on my forearm.

 

“What is it, Ginny? What's wrong?”

 

I took a deep breath.

 

“We've been through a lot together. The war, death, school.” She hummed in understanding. “I managed to smooth things over with Ron, but I know there is still a lot of work to do on all our parts to make it right. I don't want to lose my brother over this. And I don't want to lose you.”

 

“Ginny?”

 

“I'm not making any sense...”

 

“It's alright. Take your time.”

 

Hermione gently stroked my arm with her fingertips, warming my skin under her touch. The tenderness of the gesture mixed with the words I wanted to say finally broke me and I felt the hot prickling of tears in my eyes. I sniffled loudly.

 

“Hermione Granger,” I began, looking up into her eyes, “I have loved you since I was fifteen years old. Maybe even longer than that. But things were complicated and I didn't know if we would ever be anything more than friends. Then, six months ago, I learned that you loved me, too. Looking back, I'm amazed and a little dumbfounded that it took us that long to figure it out.

 

“When I was talking with Ron, he told me he didn't like that Harry and Luna got engaged so quickly. I explained to him that we have to make the best of the time we have together. If the last few years have been any indication, we don't know how much more time we will have. And I want to make the most of it while we can.”

 

With another sniffle, I opened the small square box and tossed the lid to the floor. I glanced up to see Hermione's eyes glistening with tears.

 

“I saw you looking at this earlier today,” I said, indicating the bracelet. “I planned on surprising you with it in a week or two, just to make you smile. But after talking with Ron, I realized that it would make me much happier to give it to you tonight. It's no ring, but it'll get the job done.”

 

I moved to the floor in front of Hermione, kneeling on the hardwood.

 

“Hermione, will you do me the honor of being my partner in this life for however long we are allowed to live it?”

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the final chapter of this work. I'll be going back through it to make edits sometime in the future, but for now, here it is in all of its glory. Thank you so much for reading!

_Five weeks later..._

 

I stared into Hermione's watery, dark eyes, frozen in a mixture of fear and hope. The tears that had been building in my eyes before were now freely streaming down my face. But I couldn't stop the gigantic smile from forming on my lips as Hermione took my hand in hers.

 

Together, we exited the lift and made our way down the main corridor of level two of the Ministry of Magic. After a quick left, we found ourselves in front of a plain door with a golden plaque upon it.

 

_Ministry of Magic_

_Department of Magical Law Enforcement_

_Domestic Records Office_

 

I took a shuddering breath.

 

“Come on, Ginny,” Hermione muttered to me, catching my eye. “This was your idea. You can't back out now.”

 

“I know,” I said, wiping my eyes and taking another deep breath. “It's just... It's happening!”

 

“Well, you're definitely not alone in this.” She held our joined hands up between us, showing me without words that she would be there. I nodded.

 

“Okay.” I cleared my throat and wiped my eyes one last time. “Let's get this done.”

 

Hermione beamed at me as she pushed open the door to the office.

 

The office was very quiet. Three large desks made up most of the space and each desk held teetering stacks of parchment rolls. The rest of the space was filled with Weasleys.

 

“Ginny! Hermione! It's about time you two made it,” Mum screeched in a whisper, hugging the two of us quickly. “I was afraid you'd miss it.”

 

“Where are the others?” Hermione asked, searching for any black or blonde in the sea of ginger surrounding us.

 

“They're in the next room finishing up,” George said, indicating another plain door at the back of the office. “You're lucky you made it in time or I would have had to sign that paper.” He held up one of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes latest trick quills. I grinned.

 

“I dunno if it would have been so bad,” I offered. “Harry might've enjoyed the joke.”

 

George and I chuckled to ourselves.

 

“Alright, everyone.” We all turned to face the small wizard that was leaning out of the door to the next room. “I need the witnesses, please. I'll call the rest of you in when we're finished.”

 

Mum dabbed at her eyes.

 

Hermione squeezed my hand as the two of us made our way to the door. The wizard, whose name tag identified him as Edward, stood aside for us to enter. Edward closed the door behind us and lead us past a few rows of chairs to a small podium at the back of the room. Standing next to the podium were none other than Harry Potter and Luna Lovegood.

 

“Alright, Harry?”I asked, flinging my arms around Harry's shoulders and hugging him tightly. He smiled at me.

 

“Never better,” he said. “Hermione?”

 

“You look great,” she muttered, brushing imaginary lint off of his black pinstriped dress robes.

 

I turned to Luna and took in her simple sundress decorated with a variety of patterns and colors. It was as if the maker had some scraps of fabric laying around and decided not to waste them. However, I had learned that Luna had the amazing ability to make even the strangest clothing choices look wonderful.

 

“Congratulations, Luna,” I said, hugging her as well. Hermione waved happily. “You look good.”

 

“Thank you. I made this dress myself.”

 

“Why am I not surprised?” Hermione asked. We all chuckled.

 

Edward cleared his throat from behind the podium and we fell silent.

 

“Good afternoon, ladies,” he began in an official voice. “My name is Edward Billings and I will be performing both the handfasting and the traditional wedding ceremonies. May I have your names, please, and your relation to the betrothed?”

 

“Hermione Jean Granger, close friend.”

 

“Ginevra Molly Weasley, close friend.”

 

“Very good,” Edward said, writing our responses in the ledger that lay open on the podium. “And the two of you are aware that your signatures in this ledger represent a binding magical contract that you witnessed the joining of these two in marriage, as defined in paragraph seven and sub-section B of the Wizarding Law for Legal Partnerships?”

 

“We are,” Hermione and I replied in unison. He marked something else in his ledger.

 

“Wonderful! If you would please present your wands hands...”

 

Hermione and I laid our right hands flat on the podium and Edward tapped them both with his wand. A tingle spread from the back of my hand and moved up to my wrist, warming my entire hand. I looked down to see both of our hands glowing the exact same shade of blue. I immediately blushed and grinned at Hermione.

 

Edward and Luna didn't appear to be fazed by the color of our hands, but Harry was practically bursting with excitement. I cleared my throat nervously.

 

“Let's begin,” Edward said, beckoning Harry and Luna forward to the podium.

 

Harry shot me a sideways glance as he and Luna came to stand on either side of the podium.

 

“Join your left hands, please.”

 

Luna and Harry raised their arms and clasped their hands above ours, resting their elbows on the podium.

 

“We are gathered together today to join the lives of Harry James Potter and Luna Artemis Lovegood together in legally and magically binding marriage as defined by wizarding law. Is this your first and only binding?”

 

“Yes,” Harry and Luna replied in unison.

 

“And you have named Ms. Granger and Ms. Weasley as witnesses to your union?”

 

“Yes,” Harry said.

 

Edward looked first at Hermione.

 

“Ms. Granger, do you accept the union of this wizard and witch with no trepidation?”

 

“I do.”

 

I repeated Hermione's reply when Edward asked me the same question. He nodded and pulled out his wand. With flicks of his wrist, he began muttering a long incantation. A silvery cord materialized from the tip of his wand, wrapping around and between Harry and Luna's joined hands, effectively binding them together. When he finished the spell, Edward set his wand on the podium and continued the ceremony.

 

“I have here the marriage contract as presented to me by Harry James Potter and Luna Artemis Lovegood on this day.” He lifted up a short roll of parchment for us to see. Hermione and I skimmed it quickly and eyed the five signature lines at the bottom. “Do you both agree to the terms you set out for this union?”

 

“Yes,” Harry and Luna echoed. Edward placed the contract down for the two of them to sign with their unbound right hands. When they finished, he held it back up.

 

“And do you, the witnesses to this union, understand the binding contract and the terms listed therein?”

 

“We do,” Hermione said.

 

“Very well. This contract will be returned to you on the day of your wedding ceremony and a copy will be retained in the Domestic Records Office. That is the end of the messy legal portion.”

 

We all chuckled with relief. Edward then began swirling his wand around the silvery cords tying Harry and Luna's hands together. Occasionally, he would tap the backs of our hands with the tip of his wand again, making our hands glow even brighter.

 

“Do you, Harry James Potter, take Luna Artemis Lovegood to be your partner in this life and any life to follow? To provide for her emotionally, physically, magically, and beyond? To hold her as your equal and honor her as your wife?”

 

“I do,” Harry said gruffly. A quick glance at him confirmed my suspicion that he was close to tears. Hermione was misting up as well.

 

“And do you, Luna Artemis Lovegood, take Harry James Potter to be your partner in this life and any life to follow? To provide for him emotionally, physically, magically, and beyond? To hold him as your equal and honor him as your husband?”

 

“I do,” Luna breathed airily.

 

“Then, with the power granted to me by the Wizengamot and Minister for Magic Kingsely Shacklebolt, I hereby declare you bonded for life.”

 

As Edward finished speaking, the silvery cord around Harry and Luna's hands began to glow bright red. The cord constricted tighter and tighter around their hands until it seemed to absorb into their very skin. Then, Harry and Luna's hands started to glow the same bright red color that the cord had been.

 

As the glow faded from all four of our hands, Edward spoke again.

 

“That was a very strong bond, Mr. and Mrs. Potter,” he said jovially as Harry and Luna pulled their hands apart.

 

He then presented the marriage contract again and Hermione and I signed it carefully.

 

“Thank you both for agreeing to witness that part,” Harry muttered to us while Hermione scrawled her neat signature under mine. “It's not exactly glamorous.”

 

“No,” Hermione agreed, taking my hand. “But it's necessary to make sure that your combined assets are put together properly.”

 

Harry hummed in response gently rubbing his wrist where the binding cords had seeped into his skin.

 

After Edward placed his signature on the contract, he moved to the door and invited the rest of the family into the room.

 

Harry and Luna were quickly engulfed in a sea of red, my mother nearly hugging the life out of both of them as my father, Ron, and George patted them on the backs.

 

Edward caught everyone's attention again.

 

“Alright, everyone! I need the Potters and their wedding planner to the podium.”

 

While my mother, Harry, and Luna joined Edward at the back of the room to discuss plans for the formal ceremony, Hermione and I blended into the group with my family.

 

“Well, Gin, how was your first legal wedding ceremony?” Ron asked, clapping me on the shoulder firmly. I grimaced.

 

“It wasn't awful,” I conceded, seeing Hermione's raised eyebrow. “But it makes me glad that I wasn't of age for Bill's. Mum told me there was a lot of back-and-forth with some of the veela laws.”

 

Ron groaned.

 

“Law disputes are the worst,” Geroge agreed.

 

It was common for engaged wizarding couples to legally marry several weeks or months before their formal ceremony in order to set all of the couples' affairs in order to be joined. Some witches and wizards preferred to do it all on the same day, but for couples like Harry and Luna, Bill and Fleur, or Hermione and I, it was much more practical to do it early to save time with potential disputes.

 

Thankfully, Hermione and I hadn't been plagued with legal problems either. In fact, the night that I proposed to Hermione, we made the decision to have the private legal wedding before we even told the rest of the family that we were engaged. That way, when my mother began to prod about our wedding plans, we could tell her that we had already taken care of it. She wouldn't be happy about that, but we hoped that she would understand. We weren't interested in a big ceremony, not to mention the amount of journalists and paparazzi that would be swarming the event.

 

After they returned from visiting Charlie in Romania, we told my family that we were engaged and they were ecstatic. Even Ron was happy for us, which was a feat considering we had only been completely honest with him for a few weeks. I suppose that he understood our decision a little better after talking with Harry about his relationship. And of course, Harry and Luna already knew of our marriage because they had acted as our legal witnesses at the ceremony three weeks before their own.

 

My mum nearly had a cow when Hermione let slip that she had moved in with me. Mum may have been open-minded about love, but she was still pretty traditional about living arrangements. Regardless, she managed to set aside her qualms and helped us decorate my home to suit both of us.

 

And yes. I did let Hermione replace my nightstands.

 

Now, we would have the wonderful honor of helping Harry and Luna find a house that worked for both of them, as well as helping them get settled in. Mum gave us that important task after I told her that I would not, under any circumstance, be responsible for the decoration of Harry's wedding. It wouldn't be too hard, what with my access to good property listings through the Harpies and Hermione's ability to negotiate prices down to the last knut.

 

“Well, ladies and gentlemen,” Edward said, stepping away from the podium with his ledger and Harry and Luna's marriage contract in hand. “Thank you all for coming out. You're free to use the room for photos for the next hour. I will be at the Burrow on the thirtieth of October for the rehearsal and again on the thirty-first for the big event.”

 

My brothers cheered and clapped Harry on the back. Dad shook Edward's hand jovially while mum veritably bounced with pent-up excitement. Once Edward was done with my father, he shook Harry's hand one more time.

 

“And let me just say, Mr. Potter, it is an absolute honor to be officiating your ceremony. Your bonding today was incredible. I don't see them quite that strong very often.” He turned and smiled pointedly at Hermione and I. “It also helps that you had a strongly-bonded married couple as your witnesses. The magic just loves to strengthen a bond with another bond.”

 

With a final smile, Edward Billings turned on his heel and strode from the room. He didn't seem to notice the eerie quiet that had settled over the Weasley family. I, however, did notice and I tried to keep my face blank although my blush was raging out of control.

 

Finally, George broke the silence.

 

“Anyone up for some tea? I bet old Tom's got the kettle ready to go and everything,” he said, not at all fazed by Edward's outing of our latest secret.

 

“I would love some,” Dad replied. The two of them started an animated conversation about tea as they made their escape.

 

“Me, too,” Ron yelped, trailing after them.

 

Harry took a dazed-looking Luna by the hand and lead her out without a word, leaving Hermione, myself, and my mother alone. I swallowed the lump in my throat.

 

“Ginevra Molly Weasley,” mum began in a quiet voice. As tired as I was of hearing my full name so many times in one day, that tone still managed to strike fear into my heart. A sideways glance showed me that Hermione was paling as well.

 

I could hear the wall clock in the corner ticking away madly as I waited for the inevitable outburst. When it didn't come, I chanced a glance at my mother.

 

She was smiling the largest, toothiest grin I had ever seen as tears rolled down her rosy cheeks.

 

“Oh, I'm so proud of you both!” she screeched, pulling Hermione and I both into her arms and squeezing us very, very tightly. When she finally released, we were gasping for breath.

 

“Mrs. Weasley, are you alright?” Hermione asked, concern lacing her voice.

 

“I'm fine, dear. I'm just so happy that you two made it official.”

 

“Mum, I'm sorry that we didn't tell you sooner, it's just--”

 

“No, I understand, Ginny,” Mum said, pulling herself together a little. “It's probably for the best that you two did it in secret considering Harry and Luna, and of course George, if he ever pulls his head out of his arse.”

 

Hermione snickered. I was flooded with relief. My mum's wrath was legendary and I had managed to escape it by a hairsbreadth.

 

“And Percy will likely be along soon. That is a lot of marriage and I don't know if I can manage that many weddings in the next two years.”

 

We all laughed, Mum linking her arms in both of ours as we made our way back into the office.

 

“Oh, but I do have one stipulation, girls.”

 

Hermione and I froze glancing at each other in trepidation.

 

“I'm going to throw you a reception on you first year anniversary. And I'm thinking of inviting Rita Skeeter.”

 

Hermione's jaw dropped.

 

I knew it was too good to be true.

 

 

END

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.


End file.
